In the Fairy's Ring
by GeneticallyElvenGryffindor
Summary: The time has come for the war to head towards its close. A certain prophecy nears fullfilment and, in the middle of it all, a certain medic tries to figure out what her role is in everything to come.
1. Age of Aquarius

AN: Hi everyone! Welcome to the third- Well, technically the third anyway but that depends on how you look at things- part of a misadventure involving a young woman with a fairy's name, a boy who use to play baseball but not anymore, and a certain person who may be destined to save humanity once he realizes his calling to do so. Technically, you don't need to read the two previous parts to understand that one. They're back story to this one, sure, but I'm almost sure this little misadventure can stand on its own. If you're interested in the back story, though, by all means read the two prior parts! Anywho, as before, any feedback is always appreciated. I don't care if it's good, bad, or indifferent…I just like to hear what people are thinking and I'm always open to new opinions and creative criticisms!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"This is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius

The Age of Aquarius

Aquarius!

Aquarius!" (From "Aquarius" from the play Hair)

There was always a small- Very tiny, almost unnoticeable really unless you knew it was there- part of Pixie that hated leaving Zion to go back to work. It wasn't that Pixie didn't enjoy her job or anything like that. There was just a small part of her that didn't like the idea of leaving her friends and what she claimed was her family.

Though she'd stated that nothing was going to happen to any of them and they were all going to be together when the war ended, there was always that chance that she was wrong. There was always that small, niggling part of her brain that insisted that not only was she not going to see the end of the war but her and her friends weren't going to make it. Something bad was going to happen to one or more of them. Something that was going to separate all of them for good.

Still, despite her fears- Probably fears they all had but they never shared with each other but Pixie had a feeling Wheeler knew about hers even though she'd never talked about them. He was good at reading her like that. -Pixie knew she had a job to do.

When the time came, when her leave in Zion had ended, Pixie made sure to report back to the _Nebuchadnezzar_ least she get accused of deserting her post. Not before making sure to tell her friends and, of course, Wheeler, that she would see all of them when she got back.

No one, in their little group anyway, ever said "good bye" to each other because that was too final. It was just seemed better to say "See you soon." That wasn't as final or, at the very least; it didn't seem that way to them.

At the moment, though, Pixie stared at the green rain that was the Matrix. Her eyes were fixed on the screens that surrounded the _Nebuchadnezzar_'s Operator's console, watching the oddly familiar rain of numbers, letters, symbols and other things Pixie had never been able to properly recognize from her Matrix days from a the small spot that was formed between Cypher and Mouse.

Pixie knew that she'd gotten lucky this time around on the ship. She'd been given a good chunk of the early watch shifts. Pixie wasn't sure why she'd gotten lucky but she wasn't going to ask any questions. Though she didn't really sleep well most nights- Something like insomnia but not really- and she functioned rather well on only a few hours of sleep, getting dragged out of a deep sleep wasn't fun to say the least. Plus Pixie didn't like having to wake up whoever was on watch after her if he or she didn't come up to the Core.

Still, Pixie found herself being dragged out of a deep sleep as a banging on her door woke her from a deep sleep. Following Cypher, Pixie wandered behind him to the _Nebuchadnezzar_'s Core as her body shook off the shackles of sleep and freed itself to full wakefulness.

Pixie stood in the _Nebuchadnezzar_'s Core with her grey blanket wrapped around her shoulders and a hood that Rain had sewn onto her sweatshirt over her head. Her hands were bunched inside her blanket in an effort to hold the well worn article closer to her. She was awake now, though, and rather curious as to why they'd all been woken up in the middle of the night

"Please get off of my back, Hawk," she stated, speaking softly over her left shoulder.

Hawk had been the last to come down, dragging his feet the entire way and whining that he was tired. Since there was no space around the bank of monitors that encircled the Operator's station- Everyone was packed around the console like so many sardines in a can-Hawk was trying to stand on his tip toes. His balance wasn't all that great because he was still half asleep so he was trying to keep his balance by using Pixie's shoulders.

"Who was on watch?" Pixie asked, trying to get a grip on just what was going on.

"It was supposed to be Morpheus," Tanks answered, looking wide awake and standing a bit away from Pixie, "but I don't think he was watching alone tonight."

"So two people were on watch tonight, big deal,' Hawk whined, coming to stand next to Pixie making her move more towards Tank, "I was getting my beauty sleep. You don't wake up every day looking as good as I do you know?"

That comment caused Pixie to stifle a giggle in her blanket. Well, it was a combination of Hawk's glib comment and the fact someone on the ship wondered, just loud enough for everyone to hear, why Hawk needed any beauty sleep.

Hawk only glared at the gathered group and blurted, "What's the deal Morpheus? Why did you have to wake up this early."

Seemingly ignoring Hawk's outrage based comments, Morpheus informed the gathered group, "We've found a new Potential. This one we must keep a close eye on in order to secure him before the Agents do. Starting today, all of our energy will be focused on monitoring this one individual."

Though his words were rather vague, Pixie got the sense that Morpheus was rather excited. There was a certain something- Something she couldn't place- about the way he looked, and the way he sounded that spoke to a great deal of excitement. Pixie had a feeling something important was going on but Morpheus didn't think it was the right time to tell them…yet.

"That was it," Hawk spat, cutting off any further explanations that were to come, "You couldn't have told us in the morning? Some of us were sleeping. Right, Pixie Sticks."

Pixie wasn't entirely sure why Hawk wanted to implicate her in his little game- nor why he had to use a nickname she'd told him time and again not to use- since she really didn't want any part of it. Her and Hawk had been friends once upon a time but that, now, felt like a whole other lifetime ago. Their friendship, if one was inclined to call it that, ended rather abruptly and on a very sour note.

Prior to working together on the_ Nebuchadnezzar_, the pair hadn't spoken for quite some time. Now, they had an uneasy sort of truce between them. At least that's what Pixie figured, anyway. She treated Hawk as civilly as she possibly could and she just hoped he gave her the same respect. Actually, Pixie found she was at her happiest when Hawk left her alone.

That was how things seemed to work between her and Hawk and the small surroundings they'd found themselves in. There were days when Hawk left Pixie alone. Days when he didn't say two words to her and let her get on with whatever it was she had to without bothering her or claiming she agreed with him when she, clearly, didn't.

Then there were the days when Hawk was extremely friendly towards her. He'd sit for hours as she worked just talking to her about things. Granted, it was usually about himself and how great he was or about things that just made her blush but it was still his attempt at being friendly.

The odd thing was that these seemingly friendly overtures made Pixie rather nervous. She wasn't entirely sure why they did but they just did. Then again, it could have had something to do with Wheeler and Chian. Her two friends- Wheeler being her "better than best friend" as of her last stay in Zion- had warned her to beware of Hawk. He was horrible towards her once and he could do the same to her again.

"Personally, I think this is pretty interesting stuff, Hawk," Pixie, flatly, countered, "I'm glad Captain Morpheus got us all up to tell us about this."

Truthfully, it was half Morpheus' words and half because if they did manage to free this mysterious Potential, she'd get to help rebuild him. Getting to use the skills she'd had uploaded into her ready and waiting mind was always a good thing, in Pixie's opinion. Though she was still a medic-in-training, the prospect was still exciting to her.

With no new information being given, the gathered group started to head back to their respective quarters. Maybe there wasn't any more information to be give or, if there was more, it would come at a later time. Besides, it was late and most of the _Nebuchadnezzar_'s crew was tired. Their days started early and ended late so sleep was an important commodity.

With a shrug, Pixie started to head off with the others. She knew it was unlikely she was going to actually fall back to sleep but it never hurt to try. Before she left, however, the young woman's gaze fell on the one monitor Morpheus kept refreshing. Whatever was on the monitor was the topic of a rather heated looking discussion between the captain and Trinity, his first mate.

Pixie had taken operator training along with her medical training- Since she'd gotten a glimpse of the Matrix code during her time in the Matrix- and said training had been enhanced by disks Tank had described as boring operation programs. She found it slightly disconcerting that she could read code almost as well as she could read anything else even though she had only been exposed to the neon green figures on a regular basis for a short part of her life.

Another refresh, on the part of the captain, gave Pixie a semi-clear image of the individual Morpheus had been talking about. He was hunched over his computer, his code reading like someone who was exhausted. The one thing that struck her, making her rub her eyes in disbelief, was his age. There was no way they were going to be able to unplug this guy; he was far too old.

Pixie squeaked a bit, more from the shock than anything else, causing the captain and his first mate to turn around. Both looked none too pleased to see her still standing there.

"Sorry," mumbled Pixie as she walked back to her room, "I'm just going to go now."

The young woman, nearly tripping over her own boots in her haste, wasn't entirely sure what was going on. She knew many regarded Morpheus as insane but Pixie had never bought into it. If anything, her captain was a bit eccentric and nothing more. Now, though, she wasn't entirely sure.

What she was sure of, though, was the fact that sleep was going to be a long time coming for her…if it came at all.


	2. Have a Nice Day

AN: First off, I'd like to apologize for my not updating. Truth be told, the "Real World" was a big factor in why I haven't updated this story in so long. I've been studying for the exam that, if I pass, will earn me my Master's Degree. I had twenty-one scientific journals to know like the back of my hand. I've been studying for this exam since late April/Early May. The one very bad thing about studying for this exam was the fact that I developed severe exam induced writer's block. I haven't been able to write just about anything since really getting into studying for this test. Thankfully, I've taken the test…now I just have to wait for the grades to come in during the fall! Anyway, I hope all of you that are out there reading this forgive me for taking such an extended break from updating. I promise to try not to repeat that little feat anytime soon. After all, I'm technically on summer vacation now!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Take a look around you; nothing's what it seemsWe're living in the broken home of hopes and dreams,Let me be the first to shake a helping hand." (from "Have a Nice Day" by Bon Jovi)

Raising one of her smallish hands, Pixie knocked sharply on the door that led into Morpheus's cabin. The young woman- though most argued that she looked more like a girl than a woman but that was a different story for another time- was slightly more than confused about the reason why she was knocking on the door. All she knew was that she was supposed to come to her captain's cabin at a certain time.

Why she was being asked was still a mystery to her. She was just told to be there by Trinity the night before as she left her late night shift in the Core. Not one to buck orders or question her captain's sometimes insane sounding requests, Pixie made sure to be at the door at the ordered time.

Among the other things that struck her as being odd at the moment, Pixie knew that her fellow rookies weren't invited to this meeting. Hawk and Mouse were in the Core, both watching for sentinel activity in the area. Pixie wasn't sure she felt safe with Hawk watching out for them- Hawk, she was afraid, would spend his time talking to Mouse and miss something vital- but that was the set up at the moment. They were off watching while she was attending a strange and clandestine meeting.

The heavy door that blocked the cabin from the rest of the hallway opened just a silver and an eye peered out to see who wanted entrance. Upon seeing Pixie standing there nervously fiddling with the hem of her sweater, the door opened a bit wider to allow her entrance.

Morpheus's room was slightly larger than the others on the ship, benefitting someone of his standing on the ship, but shared the same astute characteristics. There was a large bed against one wall and something akin to a bookcase on the other. The shelves were crowded with not just actual books- the paper kind that were rather rare. Pixie had a few of them back home. – but curious little items that Pixie wanted to have a closer look at. The young woman restrained herself, though, but it took a physical effort.

Even with the slightly larger space, though, the room was crowded. It seemed as if the rest of the _Nebuchadnezzar_'s crew, other than her fellow rookies, had been called in for this meeting. As eyes fell on her as she entered, Pixie's eyes found themselves drawn to the floor and her hands continued to nervously fiddle with the hem of her sweater.

There was no room to breathe much less to sit, given the number of people in the room. Cypher was holding court on Morpheus's bed, alternately inviting the female crew members to sit with him and warding off the inevitable swats that came his way. Cypher, to Pixie anyway, reminded the young woman of what Hawk was destined to become in a few years. That just served to increase her wariness of the bald but mustached man.

"Wanna sit, kitten?" he called, patting a spot in on the bed and leering at Pixie.

"I'd rather not, thanks," Pixie, nervously, retorted, trying to stand closer to the door than she was already.

"Plenty of room here, Pix," Cypher commented, leaning, casually, against the wall the bed was against.

Shaking her head, both to show Cypher she meant "no" and at his comment in general, Pixie slipped away from the door and wedged herself in one of the far corners of the room. There she rested in a catcher's crouch, balanced on the balls of her feet with her elbows on her knees, holding her head up.

Morpheus, standing near the wall farthest from where Pixie was crouched, caught the entrance of his smallish medic-in-training. With everyone gathered in one place, away from their usual duties, the dark skinned captain called for the attention of the gathered group. Bodies moved to lean against walls or, shooing Cypher off of the bed, sit on the bed. All eyes, though, were on Morpheus as his deep voice echoed off of the metallic walls of his room.

"You all have been asked here to take part in, what I believe, will act that will bring this conflict to a close," he began.

"You're not talking about the One again, Morpheus are you? There is no One," Cypher snapped, sighing and rubbing his moustache in a nervous sort of way.

Beliefs aside, the rest of the gathered crew turned to stare at Cypher. They were solider, assigned to follow orders as most "good" soldiers did. Whether they believed in the One or not did not matter right now. Morpheus allowed them their beliefs and everything but that was neither here nor there at the moment.

All that mattered, at the moment, was that they did as their Captain ordered. Pixie found that Morpheus never really ordered anyone. It seemed, to her, that he more made suggestions that were followed because he was worthy of that kind of respect.

Seemingly ignoring Cypher's little remark, Morpheus continued, "I have never asked you to believe as I believe, to follow behind me like so many sheep. I have allowed all of you to find and follow your own paths. What I am asking you to do now is to, along with your other duties on this ship; keep a close watch on this man. He grows closer to the truth everyday and needs our protection."

Pixie's ears perked up as she heard what they were being asked to do. The whole idea of the One, a man who could end the war, was highly debated in Zion. Some believed that he did exist and his arrival would herald the end of all things. Others felt he did not exist; he was a story created to help comfort a race under siege. There wasn't exactly a war between the two opposing parties. Not a physical war anyway. It was more like a philosophical war of ideas between the two groups.

Rain and Torrent, along with Una, Aisling, and Adoh, were believers but they had not forced Pixie to feel as they felt. Pixie listened to them, listened to their argument but gave the same attention to those arguing against the idea of the existence of the One. She figured it was only fair for her to pay attention to both sides of the story.

Though she'd heard both sides of the story, Pixie wasn't exactly sure what she believed. The idea of one man, a singular individual who was able to end the war against the machines was definitely a nice idea. After all, it was the sort of idea that brought hope to a people that were living underground and under threat from malicious mechanistic monstrosities that called the earth's surface home.

Still, one man to end a war seemed almost insane. The idea was just mind boggling, something one couldn't get their mind around no matter how one approached it. It really almost sounded insane when one thought about it.

Pixie wasn't really sure whether or not she believed in the idea of the One. She figured that, when the time came- if she was around when the time came- she'd make her decision. She wanted to see the One when the time came and see what he could do. After all, no one really said what sorts of things the One was supposed to be able to do…other than end the war, of course.

From her spot on the floor, Pixie mentally mused, "It's weird that Hawk and Mouse aren't in on this. It doesn't seem fair that I'm in here. Maybe there was a mistake."

The young woman stood up from her catcher's crouch, stumbling a bit as her legs felt full of pins and needles from sitting in the same crouched position for so long. It wasn't that the position was uncomfortable for her, it was just that her legs had fallen asleep in the position she'd been resting in.

As quietly as she possible could, Pixie inched her way towards the door. Though she knew it was very silly of her to just assume that her being asked to join the rest of the crew of the _Nebuchadnezzar_ in this meeting was a mistake, the young woman tried to make an escape. Maybe she'd join her fellow rookies in the Core to keep watch or, even better, head off to the medical bay and look over some of the notes Dozer had on his small computer. Having things downloaded into her head was one thing but she still enjoyed looking over notes and then making her own.

Pixie would have been entirely successful in her escape if not for the fact the door, at that very moment, decided to let out an unearthly squeak. Her face colored red as the eyes of the gathered group turned to her and the slightly opened door she was holding in her hands.

"Where are you going?" Morpheus asked, looking at the obviously nervous young woman in a curious way.

He might have been mad at Pixie for trying to leave but he knew she had her own reasons for leaving. It had little to do with the fact she wasn't following orders. There was some other reason Pixie had. At least, that's what Morpheus figured.

"I think I'm in the wrong place, sir," Pixie replied, her hands back at the hem of her sweater, "I don't think I was meant to hear any of this."

Knowing that her excuse sounded rather lame, Pixie added, "What I mean is that, you didn't ask Hawk and Mouse to be present and they've been here as long as I have. I just figure that I shouldn't be hearing this if they're not here either."

"You are most certainly in the right place. I asked you to be present, to take an active role in these proceedings because you are a medic-in-training. You will need to be familiar with this man since you will be aiding in his rebuilding," Morpheus informed Pixie.

Pixie nodded her head, understanding that she was being asked to take part in something potentially important, and closed the door. She returned to her crouched pose back in the corner, bringing her attention back to the meeting at hand.

"However dishonest it may seem, we must keep this information away from both Hawk and Mouse," Morpheus stated, his tone showing just how important he felt that topic to be.

"Why?" Pixie piped up, curious as to know why they had been left out while she had been chosen.

"Mouse is excitable, to say the least. The less he knows the less damage he can do. I was hoping he would still be working on the new Agent Training Program but he seems to have completed that assignment.I would love to include him but there is simply no way. Hawk cannot be allowed to take part in this until he gets that enormous chip of his shoulder. I do not think he would appreciate watching over someone he feels is less than he is, in his own opinion," Morpheus replied.

Pixie, who kept her ears open for her name and when she would be keeping her brandy brown eyes on Neo, was inclined to agree with Morpheus where Hawk was concerned. He didn't like doing anything for anyone he felt was below him. Watching someone who, potentially, could end the war wasn't something for Hawk to do. Still, Morpheus had as asked Cypher to help and he didn't look pleased either.

With something like a mental shrug, Pixie rearranged the schedule she had running through her head to include her new assignment. Sure, it would mean she'd be a bit busier but, then, that had never been a concern for her. Busy was better than having nothing to do and, anyway, things seemed to be getting interesting now.


	3. The Happiest Days of Our Lives

AN: Hiya everyone! Hope everyone's having a good start to summer! For me, everything's just about wrapped up now. The Girl Scout Troop I volunteer in had its "Green and White" (That's what we call our patch ceremony.) last Friday and my dance studio had its show this past Sunday. Actually, this was my twentieth year with the studio so I got this nice plaque along with a huge trophy for holding the studio record for sixteen years without ever missing a class. It's a crazy record, I know, but it's the one I hold. Anyway, I hope everyone out there is having fun doing whatever is you're doing this summer! A big thanks to everyone out there reading this little misadventure and to anyone who's taken the time to review it! All of you rock like a box of sock!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"When we grew up and went to school There were certain teachers…" (From "The Happiest Days of Our Lives" by Pink Floyd)

"I'm not doing it," Pixie protested, crossing her arms over her chest and trying out her best intimidating look.

Alright, the look wasn't exactly working but Pixie was still making a brave attempt at it anyway. She wasn't really sure why the look never worked on her- Why everyone she knew could affect this imposing, tough look and she couldn't- but it really never did. The young woman wasn't entirely sure what it was about her that caused her attempts to fail, though. There was just something about her that always caused her attempts to fail.

"Pix, Morpheus said you have to. Since when are you bucking orders from the captain?" Tank pointed out, a hint of a laugh in his voice.

Pixie frowned but walked over to one of the hanging chairs in the Core. Standing on her tip toes in order to reach the computer adjacent to the seat- whoever had been using the chair before her must have either been taller than she or pushed the computer console up that high just because they wanted it out of the way- the young woman began to input her own data. She didn't even have to think about what she was punching in as it had become almost second nature to her.

However, her mind was free to wander through the truth in Tank's statement. She wasn't one to really disregard orders once she'd been given them. It was just how she was, it seemed. Orders were orders and, when from someone of a higher rank, they were meant to be followed.

Sure, Pixie put her own spin on orders she wasn't exactly fond of but even that couldn't help her now. There was no way getting around these orders would work for her.

The crew she worked with had been watching the individual Morpheus was convinced was the One for several weeks, getting use to his schedule and becoming an invisible part of his everyday life. They were the invisible fly on his wall watching his every movement, the preverbal "big brother" that watched over someone's shoulder.

Much to everyone's communal surprise, Trinity had started to take many of the watches. If someone had even hinted that they were tired, she would offer to take over for them. It was definitely suspicious- Maybe "curious" was the better word for what it really was- behavior for the normally stoic first mate of the ship.

Her actions had started more than a few rumors but Pixie wasn't holding stock in any of them. After all, they were, essentially, a small group of people who were around each other twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week things like that were bound to happen. Rumors and gossip were spread to pass the time.

"I'm following orders but you can tell Morpheus I'm doing this under protest," Pixie informed Tank as she lay back in the chair, "Are you sure you can't get Trinity or Switch to do this?"

"He asked for you specifically, Pix. He said you'd blend in best," Tank countered.

Pixie, as far as she knew, was doing something that had to do with going into the Matrix to pay a clandestine visit to the man that just might be the One. No making contact with him or anything like that. Just a quiet little invisible visit to check him out in the "real" sense of the word. The young woman didn't know any of the specifics of the mission but she was convinced that, when it came to something as potentially as important as the One, even if she wasn't sure she believed in him or not, there had to be someone better qualified than she to take the mission.

"Alright," the young woman acquiesced, as her eyes closed and the world around her went dark for the briefest of moments.

The transition never took all that long, though some she knew said it felt like it took an eternity to go from actual consciousness in the Real World to the false consciousness that was the Matrix. For Pixie, it felt like coming into a dream. As if her eyes closing inside the cold, metal tub she called home was just her falling asleep and her arrival in the Matrix was just her coming into some sort of twisted dream that went on when she was awake.

"I'm in," Pixie stated, as she found herself holding the receiver of an old rotary dial telephone.

The telephone, like the stale air in the room she was standing in, felt as real as anything Pixie could think of. Real enough that it took a metal effort for her to recall that this reality wasn't exactly, well, real. It was just a product of the imaginations- if one could call it that. Pixie doubted you could. - of malevolent machines.

"Alright, Pix look out the window. There should be a school bus down there," Tank told Pixie, in a hurried voice.

Setting the black receiver down on the moth-nibbled table cloth covered table, the young woman walked over to the window. As carefully as she possible could, trying not to attract too much attention, Pixie peered out between the moldy green curtains. Sure enough a bright yellow school bus was parked across the street. Older looking kids- pre-teens to early teenaged kids- were chatting with each other as the piled into the "cheese" bus.

A shocked look crossed Pixie's face as realization set in. Suddenly, she knew just why Morpheus had chosen her and not someone else for the task at hand.

"No, Tank, please don't makeme. Let me come home. I, physically, can't do this," Pixie pleaded as soon as she picked up the receiver once again.

She heard the operator at the end of the line laugh. Pixie hoped he was laughing at her situation and not at her directly. Though she knew the way she was whining were grounds enough to get her laughed at.

"I can't let you come back. Morpheus wants someone to, physically, see this new guy. Now get on the bus and don't forget your backpack. Phone me when you're done," Tanks said, line going dead with a click.

Pixie heaved an exasperated sigh, half frustrated and half wondering if she should take this situation offensively or as a compliment. Looking down, she noticed there was a rather heavy looking cobalt blue backpack leaning against one of the legs of the table the phone was on. For a second, Pixie toyed with the idea of shoving her phone in said backpack but the thought of having to make a quick getaway changed her mind. The phone would have to go into her jacket pocket instead.

Her normal leather jacket- a short thing she always wore over her clothing when she went into the Matrix- wasn't what she was clad in, though, much to Pixie's confusion. Sparing a moment to look at what she was wearing, Pixie found herself in something that was radically different from the black spandex she was normally clad in.

It seemed she was dressed to blend in with the other students on the bus instead of wearing all black as was normal for her. Rather than her "spandex ninja," was it was jokingly called, clothing Pixie found herself in dark blue jeans with a lighter blue t-shirt. Over the shirt, she wore a zip-up hooded sweatshirt that was a tye dyed mix of light and dark blue. Blue must have been the overall theme as even her sneakers were blue and violent yellow with neon yellow laces.

Knowing there was little she could do now about her situation, Pixie shouldered the backpack and made her way towards the bus.

She had to run in order to do it but Pixie caught up to the bus as it was about to pull away from the school. The teacher who seemed to be in charge only glared at Pixie as she boarded the yellow beast not even bothering to check if she was a student or not. She looked tired and annoyed, bothered by the mere fact she was chaperoning a bunch of noisy students on a field trip. Students who didn't even have the good graces to get to the bus on time, it seemed.

Avoiding making any unnecessary eye contact with the annoyed looking teacher, Pixie snuck a look at the letterhead atop the student roster. It wouldn't hurt to know what school she'd be posing as a student for, anyway.

"Owen Patterson High. I can't believe I'm posing as a high school student," Pixie mused, as she took the one empty seat at the back of the bus.

She shook her head, ruefully and added, "Type casting at its best."

The young woman- who wasn't exactly high school student age to begin with- pulled the backpack onto her lap and began to rifle through its contents, curious as to why it was so heavy. Though she was distracted, Pixie felt the stares of some of the actual high school students around her. They knew she wasn't one of their own but weren't saying anything for some reason.

For that Pixie was thankful. Just as she wished to avoid detection by the Agents that roved the Matrix, Pixie didn't want anyone else on the bus knowing she didn't belong. Keeping a very low profile was what Pixie wanted from the whole situation.

The backpack appeared to be full of the prerequisite books for someone in high school or what Pixie assumed to be the proper books. Before her freeing, she'd been a high school student. Well, she was supposed to have been a high school student, anyway. She had missed more school than she actually attended due to the fact she'd been so sick nearly all the time.

She was a few days shy of her "birthday" in the Real World---she would have been living in the real world for four whole years on that date.

A few days after that would be her Matrix given birthday.

In order to make them seem more normal, many Pod Borns still celebrated their Matrix assigned birthdays. Pixie always counted those birthdays as important, as a reminder as to why she had taken the red pill. Every year was another year she wasn't supposed to have seen.

She was going to be nineteen years old in a few days. Considering her situation in the Matrix, Pixie almost felt relieved to be seeing nineteen. It was another birthday she wasn't supposed to have been able to celebrate.

As she bus hit a bump, something very large and made of black metal nearly fell out of Pixie's backpack, breaking her thoughts about birthdays off. As quickly as she physically could, her hand reached out to prevent whatever it was from hitting the ground and sliding towards the front of the bus.

Her tranquilizer gun had shoved in the backpack in such a way that it rested on top of a few of the shorter books in said backpack. A quick check of all the side pockets and every other nook and cranny Pixie could think of affirmed the fact that it was the only weapon she was, presently, carrying. Trying to act normally, she stowed the weapon in an easily accessible side pocket.

"I truly hope there are no metal detectors at this place," she mused, "might be difficult to explain why I'm running around with something like this in my backpack. It would definitely blow my cover."

To Pixie, the bus ride to their destination- a large glass and metal monster of a building bearing the name Metacortex- seemed far too long. She was almost relieved when the bus came to a slow halt and the students plus one not quite student clambered out of the hot, sticky, rather smelly confines of the yellow school bus.

Pixie squinted her brandy brown eyes as she stepped into the brightness that was the sun or, at least, what the Matrix said was the sun. Without her sunglasses to protect her sensitive eyes, since she'd never really been out in the sun to begin with and there was no sun in the Real World to desensitize them, she was reduced to squinting. Not exactly something she enjoyed.

The young woman allowed the students to sweep into the crowd with her at its back. She figured that, in this configuration, the person in charge might not notice her and that, if anyone decided to turn into an Agent, they would have to fight against the crowd to get to her. That and she knew if such an event did occur, she'd have a better chance of not hurting innocents if she was at the back of the crowd.

Scanning the appearances of the class she had been riding with, her eyes came to rest on a small group just ahead of her. They were; obviously, interested in computers judging by the hushed but excited tones they were talking in and their pale, "computer tanned" faces.

"This is the place, man, where you want to work. This is _the_ computer company," one of the boys- from the way he was holding himself and the self assured look in his eyes Pixie assumed he was the ringleader-blurted in an almost awed tone.

"I don't know, Flash," another boy, dark skinned and tall, countered, "I bet I could get into their system. I did break into the school's computers."

"Don't talk about that kind of stuff, Gamma. They'll hear you," said a rail thin boy casting large eyes in all directions.

"Hound, stop with the 'them' garbage. There is no 'them'," Flash commented, glaring and heaving an exasperated sigh, "that's just a stupid story."

"What 'them'?" piped up a smallish, high pitched voice.

Pixie looked at the group once again, noting for the first time a small girl standing at Flash's elbow. They looked so alike that she assumed they were brother and sister with Flash being older. The young rebel had to suppress a smile. This little girl looked no older than thirteen, fourteen at the most but Pixie knew looks could be deceiving. She could have been older than what Pixie figured.

There were still very few female hackers-she, herself, had been one and knew several others, many of whom were far more famous or infamous, depending on how you looked at it, than she could ever hope to be-as compared to their male counterparts. She recalled Dozer telling her that, when he was very young, that a priority had been placed on freeing female hackers. Something about the ratio of males to females, he had said.

"They, Scout, them. You know the men in black who come and take away people like us,"Hound told the girl.

Pixie caught what Hound had said, wondering if he meant Agents or freed minds like her. Both wore black, with the occasional freed mind exception, and both took hackers away in one form or another. The Agents usually used a bit more violence and things, where the Agents were concerned, usually had a negative outcome.

"Hound, stop filling my sister's head with your insanity," Flash warned, "Bad enough you got her into this stuff. My mom would pitch a fit if she knew what Scout was doing."

"I was going to get into it anyway, Flash. It's all you ever talk about," Scout pointed out, putting her hands on her hips.

"All I'm saying is that it's those men in black that are preventing us from contacting some of the great hackers. I know people who have claimed to have spoken to Morpheus, Trinity, and Niobe. They're like famous," Hound said awe evident in his voice.

"Hound, they're lying to you. Those people don't exist. They never existed,"Gamma interjected.

"Believe what you want,"Hound continued, "But you've heard about those terrorists, the ones who ride with the famous hackers. I've seen some of them and they're just kids. Did you see what someone posted yesterday on the boards?"

"Yeah, a bunch of wanted ads," Flash quipped.

"I saw them," Scout chimed in, "They were for people claiming to be seen with Morpheus or have information about him."

Pixie held her breath as she was shunted along with the ever moving crowd. She heard of the wanted ads that had gone up the night before as well.Of course, her means of hearing about them were slightly different than the ones used by the hackers in front of her.She'd found out from a clandestine message from one of the other shipsin the fleet. It had come in the form of an encrypted signal, sent over who knew how many miles, and warned the crew of the _Nebuchadnezzar_ to play it safe for a while. They were, once again, high on the most wanted list.

"Those ads are phonies,"Gamma commented, "It's all misdirection to keep us from seeing the real truth."

"What truth is that?" questioned, Pixie, interjecting herself into the conversation after playing quiet spectator for some time.

Flash and Gamma gave the blue clad female a set matched of dirty looks. They didn't seem all that keen on the fact she'd just interjected her two cents into their conversation.

"Who asked for you to come and talk to us," snapped Flash.

"Isn't there some fashion magazine you have to go talk about," added Gamma in the same snappish tone Flash had used.

"I was just asking a question. There's no crime in being curious," Pixie commented, putting her hands up to show she meant no harm.

"You don't look like the type who knows anything about hacking or about computers," stated Flash as if it was the most obvious fact in the world.

Pixie simply shrugged, mentally chiding herself for even talking to these people. It wasn't the brightest idea she'd ever had but it seemed like a good idea to foster the habits of these hackers just a bit. There was always the need for a new member or two when it came to Zion's defenses.

"I know a thing or two," she commented, mentally adding, "or ten."

"So, what truth are you talking about?" she asked again, actually curious and not just pretending to be.

"The truth that there's a huge government conspiracy with key players in the highest positions of power, reaching into the lives of every man, woman, and child on the face of the earth," Gamma said.

Pixie mumbled something about a television show called "The X-Files." She, herself, had never watched it but knew of it from many of the newer Pod Borns. A group of hackers on the show had inspired them to start hacking. The show had confused many of them, believing they were uncovering the government's dirty laundry, not the idea that their reality was a fake.

"You have it all backwards, Gamma. They do exist. I don't think the government has anything to do with what's going on here. I do they they're after these people just because they know something we're not suppose to know," Hound corrected.

"What aren't we suppose to know about?" Pixie asked, trying to hide her smile.

Before Hound could answer, a large crowd of people swept through, separating the young curious but confused hackers from her. When the crowd had dispersed, Pixie saw that the group of hackers was nowhere to be seen and she was standing at the entrance of the building.

Much to her chagrin, it was an entrance with a metal detector.


	4. School's Out

AN: Happy Belated Fourth of July everyone who celebrates! Hope everyone's enjoying their summer and whatever they're doing this summer. I saw _Transformers_ the other day and I have to say that it was a good movie. Then again, my opinion may be a bit skewed where that movie is concerned since I was a fan of the cartoon when I was little. Now I'm eagerly awaiting the opening of _Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_. I've seen the four previous _Harry Potter_ movies on the night they've opened so I'm hoping to do the same with this one. I'm one of those people, though, that finds the Harry Potter books better than the movies but I'm also a big fan of reading to begin with. Books are just awesome! Anyway, for anyone out there still reading this, thank you for reading this little misadventure! I'm always amazed that anyone reads what I write. I also appreciate any reviews left for me! You guys are the best!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"School's out forever

School's out for summer

School's out with fever

School's out completely" (From "School's Out" by Alice Cooper)

Pixie wasn't exactly sure she believed in something like luck but she was almost sure that it had to exist at the moment. Well, maybe not "good" and "bad" luck per say but definitely "dumb" luck. That was the only sort of luck that Pixie decided she might have to start believing in or, at least, acknowledge the existence of.

After all, something must have decided to make the metal detectors in the entryway of the large building inoperable. There was something out there that decided to twist the universe just so and make Pixie's life a whole lot easier. Something to help her not have to explain just why she, posing as a normal, everyday high school student, was wandering around with a tranquilizer gun tucked neatly into her backpack.

Since that something couldn't be logically explained- There were no medical or scientific tests to explain sudden and rather serendipitous events like that- Pixie decided to just chalk it up to dumb luck.

That was about the only thing she could think of that made any sort of sense as she waltzed through the nonfunctional metal detector to queue up with the actual high school students she was hiding among. It was just dumb luck that got her through that small hurdle and onto the next stage of what passed for her mission at the moment.

"Metacortex is the premier computer programming corporations in the city. Scratch that, this company is the premier computer programming corporation in the world. Every one of our programmers are the best in the field. If you have aspirations of working for us, well, it's a long road but the rewards are worth it," explained the tour guide- a rather pudgy little man whose name badge identified him as being named Fred- sounding more like an ad for Metacortex than an actual tour guide.

The voice of the tour guide had taken on a droning quality as Pixie started to lose what he was saying. It wasn't as if what he was saying mattered to her, after all. She wasn't exactly on the tour because she was looking for a job or anything of the sort. Technically speaking, she wasn't even in a position to get a job at the computer company in question. It was sort of hard to find employment in a place when one's address read something to the effect of "_Nebuchadnezzar_, the Real World" or "Zion, the Real World."

That and Pixie already had a job. A job that seemed to have little or nothing to do with her mission at the moment- A mission she, still, didn't fully understand because if Morpheus or Trinity wanted a layout of the office building all they really had to do was ask Tank to pull one up for them- but she still had a job.

Despite the fact she really didn't understand why she'd been sent to have a look around the inside of the office building; Pixie knew she had a job to do. It was a given that she was going to do said job to the best of her abilities whether or not she understood why. Her brandy brown eyes darted here and there as she, with the class of kids she was hiding with, was led around the building by their assigned tour guide in an effort to take in even the smallest details.

Of course, she also had her eyes open just in case her cover was blown and someone in the more than a little busy office building decided to turn into an Agent. Every possible exit- Even some that weren't exactly conventional- was being located and mentally catalogued as she wandered through the building at the tail end of the class.

Still, Pixie really couldn't help herself and boredom was starting to creep up on her. She wasn't a programmer in any sense of the word. If anything programming was more the job of either Mouse or Hawk. They were the ones always at the computer…fiddling…with things in both the Real and virtual worlds. Mouse was always willing- more than willing really. When he got excited about something he could talk about it for hours on end. - to talk about what he was working on.

The same could not be said for Hawk. When Hawk was working on something, he generally liked to play the secretive card, not speaking about his project and treating it as if he'd found the cure for some Matrix related disease but was unwilling to part with it. The only time he ever talked about his work was when he wanted to brag about it. Then and only then would he talk about whatever he was working on.

"Sitting in here is one of our best programmers," Fred stated, his words cutting into Pixie's boredom and snapping her into the here and now.

She blinked a few times, waiting for something to happen. If someone was to be considered the "best" in this company, if Fred's words were true, than this person must have been something amazing. At least, that's what Pixie had decided from the few words she'd managed to hear.

Whatever he was expecting to happen didn't actually happen and Fred leaned his head into the cubicle to speak to the man sitting within its confines. All eyes were on the slumped man in a rumpled brown suit. The suit appeared to be slept in or, at the very least, unpressed as it hung off of the man's body. Whoever this person was, he seemed far more interested in the flickering images on the screen instead of the students staring at the creased back of his suit jacket.

It took a few moments as the individual finished whatever he was working on and saved it. He stood, facing the students and regarding them with tired eyes. His face, like the young group of hackers Pixie had bumped into earlier, had the same sort of pasty complexion. He was another individual who spent countless hours working on his "computer tan."

"I'd like to introduce all of you brilliant young minds to Thomas Anderson, our very own brilliant mind," Fred announced.

Pixie's eyes snapped away from the exit she'd been staring longingly at- They'd wandered over to said exit as Fred talked to the man in the cubicle-and focused on the tired looking man before her. Thomas Anderson was a name she recognized, even if she didn't really know the face attached to the name. She'd seen this man eating and sleeping, working and hacking as his alter-ego Neo.

What she knew about him paled in comparison to what Trinity knew about him. Trinity could watch Neo nearly all day and not grow tired of it. Pixie recalled hearing, while patching up Mouse who had given himself a minor jolt with a power cord, Tank telling Trinity he though she had a little crush on the potential. A great deal of yelling and even a death threat had followed that statement. After that any suspicions of crushes were talked about in secret and with a great deal of secrecy lest Trinity hear anything about it.

This had been the first time Pixie actually "seen" Anderson. She knew where in the code to look to find him and how take that small piece of code and convert it into a mental image of a person. He was older than most waiting to be unplugged, but she had seen that in the code.

The bags underneath his eyes made him looked as tired as many of his watchers both staying up until the wee hours of the morning. As they watched him, an invisible fly on the preverbal wall, he looked for their captain. He was watching out for them as they were watching him, making things into a strange sort of cycle.

He didn't look like much, this person who used the name Neo but was calling himself Thomas at the moment. Just an ordinary man doing a job he seemed not to like all that much who was searching for the truth just like many other people. He was just an all together unassuming looking individual, absolutely nothing special about him. Nothing that might give indication as to the fact he could be the individual who was supposed to save mankind.

Then again, Pixie knew that appearances could be very deceiving. Not everything was what it appeared to be. Maybe this unassuming appearance held a great power underneath it, maybe there was something more to the unassuming man with his tired, pasty face and rumpled, wrinkled suit. Though Pixie wasn't entirely sure whether or not she believed in the whole idea of the One, she was more than willing to take into consideration the possibility that an unassuming individual, working in a huge building could be the One.

Being unassuming, being able to hide in plain site was something not to be scoffed at. Pixie knew it was something to use to one's advantage, as she was hiding in plain sight at the moment. All she had to do was blend in with the world around her, dress and act like a bored high school student, and no one would pay her any mind. No one would believe that she was a freed mind, a resistance fighter from the Real World.

If the One was a flashy character, the sort who used whatever powers the One was supposed to have; there was more than a good chance that he wouldn't live very long. The Agents weren't stupid creatures. They weren't the silly artificial intelligence found running many low-tech video games. No, the Agents were frighteningly intelligent. They'd crack down on anyone even showing the slightest hint of something that might disturb the Matrix. A flashy, grandstanding One who flaunted his powers was a giant target for the Agents.

The more Pixie thought about it, the better is sounded for the One to be less of a flashy super hero sort to an unassuming "Clark Kent" sort of individual. The kind of mild mannered, unassuming person who could throw off his clothes- whether or not that happened in a phone booth was up in the air though that whole idea made Pixie giggle a bit- and become a "Superman." His unassuming identity hid the powers within. That sort of One made far more sense to Pixie.

If there was such thing as the One anyway.

Thomas- Neo- gave the class a mumbled greeting, looking wholly uncomfortable under the combined gazes of several curious students. After a few beats of extremely uncomfortable, heavy silence, Thomas turned and went back to his computer.

"Guess he must be busy working on some big project here," Fred said, around a very nervous sounding chuckle, "Tommy's not much of a talker anyway but he's a god in the computer world. I kid you not; he can make computers dance with just a touch."

After finding that he was being glared at buy several sets of disbelieving eyes, the pudgy tour guide added, "Now, let's have a break from all this fun. I'll take you all down to the cafeteria."

Pixie cast one final glance at Anderson, trying to imagine him bald and in rebel blue, but found she couldn't. Not yet anyway. He needed more time, needed to dig deeper. Not that much deeper but just a bit deeper. He'd be read to become one of them soon enough.

With an unspoken "good luck" she walked along with the class until they reached an elevator bay. As they piled into three waiting elevators, Pixie slipped into the stairwell and bounded down the stairs, taking them two and three at a time. She wanted out of the giant glass and metal structure as soon as physically possible.

Darting here and there, losing her backpack as soon as possible- Not before fishing her little tranquilizer gun out of it first- Pixie found herself ducked behind a very large garbage container in the middle of a small alleyway. The smell was horrendous and was making the young woman gag ever so slightly but Pixie kept trying to remind herself that it wasn't real. The smell didn't actually exist outside of her head.

Pulling out her cell phone, trying not to breath, despite her best efforts to convince herself the smell didn't exist, the young woman dialed a number that didn't exist in any phone book in the Matrix. She waited a few beats, a few long moments as the phone connected and rang on the other end, before being greeted by the familiar and all too chipper voice of Tank. It seemed like he was still enjoying a laugh about Pixie's current situation.

"Where's my exit?" Pixie, half excited and half eager just to get home, asked, "I have to talk to Morpheus. I saw Neo!"


	5. Here's to the Night

An: Heya everyone! I know there's something about this story I wanted to explain. Unlike the chapter titles, the title of this story isn't a song title. It's actually a historical reference, in a backwards sort of way. Fairy's rings, actually, exist but they're just wide rings or arcs of mushrooms that occur naturally in some forested areas. Though that's the actual meaning of a "fairy ring" there are other meanings behind them. In English folklore, it was believed that fairy rings were created by fairies, elves, or pixies dancing in circles and wearing down the grass. It was said that these rings had the ability to transport people to the world of the fairies or make them appear in the same place at a different time. Anyway, and away from rings created by dancing fairies, I hope everyone is enjoying the latest installment in a misadventure involving a girl with a fairy's name, a former left handed pitcher who comes into play sooner or later, and a person named after a bird. If anyone has any criticisms- good, bad, or indifferent- please feel free to let me know. I'm always looking for ways to improve on my writing. To anyone who's left me a review…you guys rock like a box of socks and make typing this misadventure up worthwhile!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Here's a toast

To all those who here me all too well

Here's to the nights

We felt alive

Here's to the tears

You knew you'd cry

Here's to goodbye

Tomorrow's gonna come too soon…" (From "Here's to the Night" by Eve 6)

Pixie hadn't really expected anything for her birthday. Her Matrix birthday, actually, instead of her Real World Birthday. Whatever the case was, Pixie really hadn't expected anything on that date.

After all, her work load seemed to be getting heavier and heavier as the crew she worked with prepared to unplug the man known as Neo. The ship was being prepped and checked and put through its paces like some sort of odd show dog. Pixie- along with Dozer when he wasn't busy with other things- had spent the better part of the past few days making sure all of the equipment in the medical bay was in good working order. Every machine was recalibrated and checked to be sure it was in top working order.

The runny thing- In Pixie's mind anyway- was that finding "subjects" to test the newly repaired machinery were in no short supply. It seemed like the intense conditions on the ship lead to several accidents. In the haste to get things done before a new assignment was given, hands became clumsy and the mind confused. Accidents were bound to happen from such conditions.

Case in point…Hawk was sporting a set of buddy wrapped fingers on each of his hands. The broken digits, tapped to another digit instead of properly splinted, were the direct result of Hawk and Mouse working together to fix some piece of machinery that had been deemed broken. Mouse knew what he was doing, since he'd been the one initially assigned to repair said machine, but Hawk decided to "help." The "help" led to an accident which led to Pixie being taken off of repair detail to see to Hawk's hands.

Playing medic, as opposed to medic-in-training, the last thought in her mind at the moment, Pixie half wandered back to her room. Her birthday gift from her captain had been an early watch so she could catch up on some sleep she was surely missing. Though she was not one to admit to being tired, Pixie was thankful for her captain's gift. Even she, with her infamous energy that allowed her to work until she dropped, was starting to tire from the work she'd been doing.

Her walk and wish for rest were both interrupted, though, by something Pixie would later realize she might have seen or heard if she'd, actually, been paying attention instead of allowing her mind to wander. As she meandered towards her room, thoughts of sleep foremost in her mind instead of the fact it was her birthday, Pixie found herself being grabbed in something very much like a bear hug, with her arms pinned to her sides.

"Let's go birthday girl," her invisible assailant ordered, frog marching Pixie back the way she came.

She went to turn her head, to look up to see who had snuck up behind her but found that, every time she did, they would stop. Apparently, she wasn't allowed to know just who'd snuck up behind her and stopped her from catching up on sleep she knew she was missing.

"Keep facing forward. The more you turn around the slower we get there," the assailant pointed out with something like a laugh in his or her voice.

Pixie heaved a sigh and stopped all of her efforts to see just who had waylaid her in the narrow hallway. The sooner this was over with the sooner she could get some sleep. Well, sleep was part of the equation anyway. Pixie was almost sure she'd wind up spending some quality time with the small, puzzle filled computer Mouse had given her a while back. The one he'd recently updated with new, harder puzzles as his gift to her.

Tired or not, Pixie always loved a good puzzle, especially the hard ones that made her think but had nothing to do with numbers. She never did like numbers and math despite the fact she wasn't all that bad with either.

"One birthday girl for you," Pixie's assailant stated as she marched Pixie into the mess hall.

The scene before her was vaguely familiar; a deck of cards on the table and a large silver jug next to said cards. Trinity was sitting on the left handed bench allowing Pixie to assume her assailant was Switch. One look back and she confirmed that the white haired rebel had been the one to march her here. Both wore looks that were part amusement and part contentment. The latter probably the result of the fact that their little plan had gone off without a hitch.

"What's this about?" Pixie wanted to know, as she found herself being directed to sit down at one of the benches that lined the much used metallic table.

"Consider this your birthday present from the crew," Switch answered, fetching three metallic cups from the shelf.

Much to Pixie's chagrin, she wasn't given an empty cup as she usually was. She'd taken part in a handful of these little "girl's nights" and had been given an empty cup at nearly all of them. Remembering what had happened the first, and only, time she's drank the contents of that metal jug had left her with little taste for what was in that jug. She much preferred the tepid water that came out of the taps on the craft.

Her preference for water was a direct result of the fact she'd woken up the following morning sick as a dog and with a blinding headache. At least, they had let her spend the day alternating between her room and a nearby bathroom.She had wound up with an IV line in her arm to recompense for all the fluids she'd lost.

"I want…," she began to protest but a pair of looks saw said protest dying on her lips.

"Not today. You're going to celebrate our way," she was told in no uncertain terms.

"But your way had me spending the following day sicker than I can ever remember being and that's saying a lot," Pixie countered, trying to think of a fast and easy way out of the situation she'd found herself in.

It wasn't like she didn't appreciate the thought of the effort her fellow resistance fighters put into their little scheme. It was more like she just didn't relish the idea of being sick. If they'd just allow her to do what she wanted- Pixie was more than willing to sit around and play cards or talk about things just to pass the time…even if she was planning on getting some sleep.- things would be rainbows and butterflies. Well, if such things existed in the first place but that was neither here nor there at the moment.

"Unfortunate side effect. Think of this as our way of celebrating your birthdays," Trinity told Pixie.

Pixie gave the two older rebels skeptically looks. She figured they were using her and her birthdays- her Matrix birthday was just before her Real World birthday- as an excuse to take a break from the helter-skelter schedule they have been working under. Though she'd been looking for an excuse to catch up on sleep, it hardly seemed fair to leave the pair of older rebels sitting there. With a bit of a sigh, Pixie poured herself some of the contents of the dreaded jug and motioned for the pile of cards. It was her birthday, she figured, she should be allowed to deal first.

Pixie couldn't recall how long she had been sitting with the two older rebels or how much she had drank during the course of time she was unable to measure. The conversation had turned from talking about the person they'd be monitoring- and whether or not he was actually the One- to the supposed crush Trinity had developed for him to Switch's relationship with Apoc.

"What about you, Pix? Has there ever been anyone special in your life?" Switch giving the strangely silent young woman a pointed glare.

Pixie had been hoping that one of the two would pass out before getting around to her and what passed for her relationships. When she saw they weren't going to pass out, Pixie began to consider faking passing out in order to avoid having to talk about herself and what was going on between her and a certain scruffy looking young man on the _Shatterpoint_.

It was a testament to just how addled she was when Pixie didn't even realize the conversation had turned into a question and answer session with her providing the answers.

"How about it, Pix?" Trinity pressed when Pixie had failed to answer the previous question.

Pixie went red...well, redder. She'd spent a good part of the passing conversations turning redder and redder. The throat searing beverage the trio- Trinity and Switch more than Pixie who was well past her limit despite the fact she'd drunk less than half of what the others had- had been drinking seemed to cut down any inhibitions the older females had when it came to speaking.

Pixie, who was by her own account more than a little addled, still had some of her own little inhibitions in place. Her blushing a vivid shade of crimson at the mere thought of talking about Wheeler was a testament to that fact. Some was very different than all, and Pixie found herself trying to speak through a hail of very school girl like giggles.

"There's this one boy back Zion," Pixie started, as she tried to stem the tide of her giggles.

"So, there's more to the medic-in-training than meets the eye," Switch commented, now curiously eyeing the young woman who had her head propped up in the palm of one hand.

Pixie fell silent, not looking at anything except her warped reflection in the liquid of her cup. She was silently hoping that the end of her questioning had come. Maybe that one bit of information was enough to get the two older females to leave her alone for the rest of the evening.

"He's not somebody we know so you're going to have to tell us a little more about him," she was told, prompting her to say something more.

A small frown crossed Pixie's face and a sigh escaped from her before she elaborated with, "His name is Wheeler, works on the _Shatterpoint_. He andI knew each other even before we were freed. Well, we use to talk on the computer so I don't know if that really counts or anything. He's scruffy looking…shaggy dirty blond hair and really nice hazel eyes. I don't know if you've ever seen baseball in the Matrix but he's built like a young pitcher."

"And how close are you two?" Switch asked, waiting for an answer that Pixie, normally, wouldn't have given up.

Addle as she was and feeling bold because of it, Pixie felt the need to answer the question. Besides, there was almost something cathartic about telling someone else, aside from Chian, about what had transpired during her last stay in Zion. As it stood, the only person who knew about her and Wheeler was Chian. The two hadn't even told their friends yet; though Pixie wasn't sure she had to. Something told her that Aisling and Ngaio had assumed and would continue to do so.

"Well, he and I are kind of better than best friends. He kissed me for the first time when we were last home," Pixie admitted, with a grin.

Adding a small giggle, she added, 'It was sort of my first kiss, technically speaking anyway."

"Well, you can't leave us hanging like that. Now you're going to have to tell us about it." Switch informed the now bright red Pixie.

After squirming around a bit, unsure of what to say or if she wanted to say anything at all, Pixie told them about what had happened that day not so long ago. She found it easy to tell the tale, but she wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe it was what she was drinking or the fact she was a bit addled and less inhibited or something else entirely. Maybe it was just the fact she felt better about telling the story to someone else instead of having to keep it all to herself.

"Was that your first kiss here or first kiss ever?" Trinity questioned, once Pixie had finished her little tale.

With an embarrassed blush, Pixie answered, "First kiss ever. You could say he's like the first boy I ever really liked."

"Awww...young love. I'll drink to that," the white haired rebel said, raising a cup

"You've been drinking to everything tonight," commenting Trinity, raising hercup as well.

With an absent minded shrug, Pixie raised her cup, too.

The clink of metal on metal echoed throughout the hall was leading from the mess hall. It fell on the ears of the long figure standing outside the door. The lone figure who'd been lurking outside the door for quite some time, totally ignored by the three females celebrating something that had started out as a birthday but not moved on to something else entirely.

"Now that's not supposed to happen," Hawk mused, "didn't suspect that little boy had it in him to do that. I'm just going to have to change things around a bit."

Hawk had no great love for Pixie, but he didn't want her to be with someone else, least of all Wheeler. He was hoping that she would come around; change her mind and see that she truly wanted him so he could, maybe, reject her and watch her come crawling back. Either that or he'd accept her- so long as she apologized to him- and force her to change to become something more interesting, to him at least.

Fighting the urge to bang a balled fist against the wall out of sheer frustration, Hawk skulked back to his room. Though he was glowering at his feet, the young man was still trying to come up with a way to make the girl who had once been his best friend his again...whether she liked the idea or not.


	6. Just Like a Pill

AN: Heya everyone! Well, I just finished reading _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_. I was one of those people who was on a line in a bookstore to get a copy of the book at midnight. However, I didn't read it as soon as I got home. I waited until the next day to start reading it and I wound up reading about three hundred fifty pages in one shot. Then I read the rest today. I have to say, I really did enjoy the book as much as I did the rest of the series. I'm glad to have read the resolution of the series but, at the same time, I'm sort of sad the series is over. Anyway, and off the topic of the ends of series, I hope everyone is enjoying this little misadventure. I promise that Pixie, and Hawk will not get too involved in anything related to the actual movie storylines. The two of them, Pixie in particular, will be…indisposed…whenever something really huge happens or, if she's around, she'll be off to the side someplace. To everyone out there reading this…thanks very much and, to all those who reviewed….you guys rock like a box of socks!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Run just as fast as I can To the middle of nowhere To the middle of my frustrated fears…" (From "Just Like a Pill" by Pink)

It was a scant few days after the "birthday party" that had left Pixie beyond sick. With a past that was littered with instances of her being so sick that she'd required time in hospitals, the fact Pixie felt she'd been "beyond sick" was saying something. It might have been more accurate to say something to the effect of "sicker than she'd ever felt in recent memory."

Still, the medic-in-training wasn't exactly sure how she's managed to stay alive after felling so absolutely horrible. The fact she'd gotten so sick had only made the young woman reaffirm her promise to never, ever take anything offered to her by someone on the ship. What she remembered about the events that made her feel so incredibly ill seemed to be fun which Pixie was alright with. The fact she felt so lousy afterwards, though, made things not really worth the trouble.

Glad to be back on her feet without a throbbing headache and a sick feeling in her stomach, Pixie had spent the better part of the day working in the ship's medical bay. Her attention, at the moment, was involved in the rather mundane task of checking on Hawk's fractured fingers. She'd, finally, gotten around to getting a splint on them and, in her opinion, they were healing quite nicely.

As she found herself, not for the first time since the young man she once counted as a friend wandered into the medical bay, wishing she was someplace else- The fact Hawk was trying to be civil towards her was setting her on edge for some reason. -when the speaker in the medical bay crackled to life. For a moment Pixie thought it was just a random burst of static as repairs were made to the ship she called home.

It was the burst of static that sounded remarkably like her name that caught Pixie's attention, making her turn away from Hawk's exam and pay more attention to the static that was bubbling out of the small speaker box across the room.

"Pix," the box called, between bursts of ear aching static, "when you're done down there, can you come up to the Core?"

Stepping away from Hawk for a moment, and wandering over to the box mounted on the wall, Pixie depressed a button and answered, "I'm down here checking out Hawk but I'll be right up when I'm done, unless it's urgent. Is it urgent?"

"I'll explain when you get up here, Pix. Just make sure you get up here when you're done," the voice on the other end- Pixie suspected that it was Tank but with the static she wasn't entirely sure- informed her.

Assuming that the situation wasn't urgent but glad that she now had an excuse to wrap up Hawk's little exam as quickly as she possibly could, Pixie started working faster than she normally did. Walking away to get some tape to hold the splint closed, Pixie found that Hawk had grabbed a fistful of her battered sweater.

She tugged the fabric out of his hand as carefully as she could. The last thing Pixie wanted were any more holes in her sweater. This one bore the scars of many repairs, as it was already. Clothing, like so many things in the Real World, was recycled until it fell apart and even then uses were still found for it.

"I know why you're rushing off," Hawk commented, his voice in a very low, dangerous sounding whisper.

"Why am I rushing off? I'm supposed to go to the Core for some reason, that's why. I'm just doing what I'm told," Pixie countered, stepping out of Hawk's reach and putting her hands where her hips were supposed to be.

"No…you're rushing off for the same reason why you're doing all that secret monitoring," Hawk taunted, "You know, that stuff you think I don't notice you're working along with everyone else on this floating sardine can."

It would have been a lie to say that Pixie wasn't a little stunned by Hawk's little comment. She'd tried her best to hide the fact that she'd been working extra shifts, monitoring one person inside the Matrix, from not only Hawk but her friends on other ships as well. She'd endured questions from Mouse, of course, but she'd managed to rebuff most of them and keep her little secret from the programmer.

Not that she didn't want to tell him, of course. It had taken a great deal of her own willpower not to blurt out what she was really up to. Keeping things a secret was not something Pixie was all that great at, according to the few friends she had in Zion.

Mouse had found out, of course, but it wasn't by her hand. She still hadn't figured out how Mouse had figured it out, actually. Now the overly eager programmer was pestering everyone who would listen to him, wanting to know if he could help out somehow.

"I know they guy everyone's been keeping an eye on is some guy Morpheus thinks is the One. Cypher told me all about it. He also told me that there have been people before this guy and all of them have wound up dead. I wouldn't put so much faith in Morpheus, Pix otherwise you're libel to get yourself killed in the crossfire," Hawk, with an air of someone unveiling some big secret, informed the still stunned Pixie.

"You're spending way too much time listening to Cypher," Pixie pointed out, trying for casual but finding that her voice still held vestiges of her former surprise, "I don't know whether or not I believe in the whole idea of the One."

"And you spend way too much time doing as you're told," Hawk countered, "what happened to that free thinking girl that I helped to get out of the Matrix, huh? You just follow orders and trust that you're doing the right thing even when anyone with half a brain can see you're just going to get yourself killed."

Surprise replaced by the starting of something stronger than annoyance but weaker than anger or blind rage- an unusual feeing to say the least- Pixie walked over to the furthers supply drawer in the room to fish out a roll of what could be creatively called medical tape. It looked everything like just a roll of duct tape from the Matrix and nothing like the white or tan tape used in Matrix hospitals. Pulling out a roll, trying to compose herself in the process, Pixie made her way back to the exam table Hawk was sitting on.

"It's more than me doing what I'm told. I'm doing what's being asked of me because I want to even if I don't believe in the outcome and I'll trust whomever I want to trust. I use to trust you but that changed, didn't it Hawk?" Pixie snapped, pulling the tape on Hawk's fingers extra tight and stalking from the medical bay.

Pixie was still nursing whatever angry sort of feeling that was coursing through her as she made her way up to the Core. The odd thing was, Pixie wasn't entirely sure why she was halfway between annoyed and angry. Hawk was just talking, that was all. He was giving her his opinion. Still, the way he was speaking had made her entirely uncomfortable for some reason.

All thoughts of Hawk and of her nascent anger- or whatever it was- were banished as soon as she peered into the ship's Core.

The entire room seemed in disarray. Tank sat in his usual spot, eyes glued to the screen. Usually lively and friendly, the operator seemed particularly intense today, not talking or diverting his attention from his bevy of screens. Morpheus and Trinity seemed to be deep in conversation while the others were preparing to go into the Matrix.

The confusion gave Pixie pause as she tried to figure out what was going on. Everyone seemed extremely busy for some reason. Pixie wasn't entirely sure she wanted to bother anyone by announcing her presence but she knew that was necessary. She'd been called to the Core thus meaning it was probably important that they know she'd arrived.

"Did anyone call me?" Pixie wanted to know, speaking as loud as she could to be heard.

The scene before her had an almost relaxing effect on Pixie. The more she tried to figure out just what in the world was going on, the less annoyed or angry she found she was feeling. Just getting out of the situation with Hawk had made her feel a whole lot better.

It was Dozer who answered her question for her, telling her "Go get yourself set up, Pix. You're going in with the others."

Asking just why she was being asked to go into the Matrix with the rest of her crew crossed Pixie's mind but the fact she found several pairs of eyes trained on her deterred her from asking what was on her mind. Apparently her arrival was what was holding the entire mission- if it was, indeed a mission of some type- up. Trying not to focus on the fact she was being stared at, Pixie went about getting herself read to go into the Matrix.

She figured whatever questions she had, they would get answered once they reached their destination. Sure, she'd missed whatever briefing they'd had because she'd been busy with Hawk but Pixie assumed someone, once they'd gotten into the Matrix, would get her up to speed. That way she wouldn't be a liability when work started.

That was Pixie's last thought as she slipped the bonds of her physical body and entered into a world where nothing was real except the damage done.


	7. Dragual

AN: Welcome back everyone! I hope everyone's enjoying this little misadventure and all the twisty turny things that are happening within it. This story is going to start heading into the realm of the actual movies and for that I apologize. I hope no one is bothered by the fact that my made up characters are going to show up in things related to the movies. Like I said before, though, I can promise that my made up characters are either going to be…indisposed…during major aspects of the movie's storyline or they're going to have a very, very minor role. They- especially Pixie and Hawk- won't be doing helping to rescue Morpheus or anything like that. I can assure anyone out there still reading this misadventure of that without giving too much away. Either way, I hope that my venturing into realm of the movies is alright with anyone out there reading this. If you're reading this, I thank you very much for taking time out to read my little misadventure. To everyone who's left me a review…you guys are awesome!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Dead I am the one, Exterminating son

Slipping through the trees, strangling the breeze…" (from "Dragual" by Rob Zombie)

"Why is always a dark alley or an old building?" questioned Cypher, as he took in their current surroundings.

He was right in one respect; they'd arrived in a dark building and were standing, at the moment, in an equally darkened alley. Pixie wasn't entirely sure what the building they'd arrived had been in its previous life. With only the small amount of light that filtered in through the badly boarded up windows- There were spaces between the slats letting a tiny bit of light from the street lights in- the building could have been any number of things before it had fallen into disuse and disrepair. Now, in its new life, it served as one of the many scattered locations that held an ever important hard line.

From what Pixie could tell, in the dark and given the short amount of time she'd been in the space, all that was in the room was a dark colored rotary dial phone on top of an old table. At least she thought it was an old table. At the pace she was hustled out of the room, Pixie couldn't exactly be sure.

From the darkened building, Pixie found herself standing in an equally dark alley. Somehow, though, the darkness wasn't so bad. She didn't want to see what surrounded them since smell, a mix of human excrement and rotting garbage, was bad enough. Not one to easily get disgusted by things, Pixie was having a hard time fighting the bile that threatened to rise up in her throat at the smell alone.

If anyone heard Cypher's question, they paid him no mind. His little comment fell on a collective group of deaf ears.

Instead, Apoc turned to Trinity and inquired, "What's the plan?"

Pocketing her cell phone, the ubiquitous little object everyone in their group had tucked away someplace in their clothing no matter how impossible that seemed, the de facto leader of the handful of individuals standing in the darkened, smelly alleyway and stated, "Choi said that he's convinced Neo to come with him. I'll go and talk to him while the rest of you just spread out around the club and keep your eyes open for anything suspicious."

"Anything suspicious," in Pixie's mind, boiled down to anything that remotely looked like the local police at best and an Agent at worst. Watching someone's back was par for the course in her line of work. It was always a danger to work alone. What one set of eyes missed, another might catch. It was all just the old buddy system, really, but it still worked quite well no matter what the circumstances were.

Pixie was about to ask where they were headed when her eyes strayed down to the mouth of the alley way. Across the street, partly visible through the mouth of the alley, was a building. The windows were tinted dark but a line wound around the block leading to the building. The medic-in-training assumed that was why the hard line they'd used was chosen for this task. The club, if indeed it was a club, was conveniently across the street from their alleyway.

As quickly and as quietly as they could manage, the small group slipped out of the alley and made their way across the car lined street. For all of a brief moment, Pixie figured that everything was going to be alright. Acting as back up wasn't all that hard, especially when there was no trouble to speak of.

The first- and, hopefully, only- problem Pixie could foresee, though, was the fact that the building had a line of rather eclectic looking individuals stretched around it. The young woman was almost sure, despite the fact she'd never been in a building such as the one she was being faced with during her time in the Matrix that waiting on such a line wouldn't be a good thing. The line was long enough that Pixie couldn't find its end. It was someplace on the other side of the building, she supposed."How are we going to get in? Look at this line," Pixie broached, speaking as softly as she could given the fact that muffled music could be heard as they drew closer to the building."There are ways to get into places like this, kid," Cypher pointed out, taking Pixie by the arm and pushing her into the middle of the small group, "you just keep quiet and try to stay out of anyone's line of sight. We don't need any questions about you."

Pixie was loath to admit it but, as she walked in the center of the group, Cypher did have a good point. She might have been the biggest problem of the group when it came to actually getting into the club. Even though she was dressed in black spandex, Pixie looked a bit younger than her given age of nineteen. No amount of clothing, no matter how severe, was going to change that fact. With Trinity leading the charge, exuding an air of absolute authority, the gathered group approached the clipboard holding bouncer standing at the head of the line. Like a living blockade, the burly man, wearing an open black dress shirt and black dress pants, stood blocking the door of the club. He glared at the approaching group over the top of useless sunglasses. "There's a line, you know!" shouted a young woman on the line who looked to be a bit older than Pixie's nineteen years and who had several spikes jutting out from under her chin.The young woman was on the arm of a guy whose mouth was literally hanging open. He seemed to be quite content in forgetting the girl on his arm and ogling the three females standing before him. Pixie tried to ignore the stare she felt more than saw but found herself turning slightly red from the unwanted attention instead."Stop it, Pix," she chided herself, "you have to look the part. That does not mean blushing.""You have to wait on the…," the bouncer started, tailing off when he looked up from his all important clipboard.The sight before him, it seemed, was enough to make the words stick in his throat. In his time as bouncer for this little industrial club, he'd seen quite a few…strange…looking people. While not exactly strange, there was something definitely different about this group of people."Is there any way we can go in?" Cypher asked, stepping in front of Trinity and jerking his thumb in the general direction of the door behind the bouncer."Not unless you're on the list or you wait on the line," the bouncer answered in a casual tone, "no other way to get in here. Now if you'd be so kind…""There's nothing we can do?" Cypher interrupted, in his best used car salesman voice.The bouncer gave the gathered group the good once over with his eyes. Said eyes lingered for a long moment or two on the three females standing before him. Pixie, as she flinched under the bouncer's probing gaze, could only imagine what would happen if he made a play for any of them. Apoc and Cypher would have something to say, true enough, but it might have been worse for the bouncer if Trinity or Switch decided to say something in their own defense. Pixie fancied that she might tell the guy off too but she wasn't entire sure she would when it came down to it. She had her moments when she had a big mouth but she didn't know if that would have been one of them."With some convincing," the bouncer announced his voice just as oily as Cypher's, "I could let all of you except her in. I need to see her ID since it's twenty-one and over here. Don't want my boss to get in trouble with the cops if something were to happen to the kid."He gestured to Pixie, though everyone knew who he was talking about. She tried to make herself look just as self assured as her older counterparts but it didn't seem to work as she felt herself almost wilt under the gazes of not the bouncer but her fellow crewmates as well.

Though Pixie wasn't one to question her orders, she found herself questioning Morpheus' logic in this situation. He had to have known about them having to go to this club and, if he knew that, there was also a good chance that he knew that the place was twenty-one and over. There would be no hold up, she figured, if he hadn't sent her along.

Of course, even in this programmed world, Pixie had no ID. Not even a false one that would list her as being twenty-one years of age instead of her actual age. Aside from a card they gave her in high school, and that didn't really count because it was just her name and a picture, Pixie had never owned a single scrap of what could be called proper, legal ID. She reached into the pockets of her short leather jacket and, feeling nothing there, she looked to her older counterparts for a hint on what to do next."You don't need to see her ID, buddy," Cypher said pulling something out of his own pocket and placing it on the clipboard."That should cover all of us I think," he added with a smirk."Go...go right in," the bouncer stammered, stepping inside and letting the group pass him without so much as a second look.

Hard techno music pounded out of speakers. People sat in gathered groups lounging like leopards in the African savannah. Here and there, people held court with closely gathered groups having conversations and, generally, appearing to enjoy themselves. Lights flashed and giving those dancing, if it could be called dancing, a strange stop-motion look. The air smelled like a mix of smoke and alcohol.All in all, Pixie found herself more than a little uncomfortable in her new surroundings. For some reason, this club reminded her of the Temple back in Zion…only worse. The crowd appeared to be feeling the same sort of fervor that had gripped everyone in the Temple within the same warm, muggy climate. People here seemed to want to get close to each other for whatever reasons they had.

Pixie drifted off to her assigned spot, trying not to look as out of place as she was feeling. She had been stationed just off the entrance, watching people enter and exit the club. The others would be covering strategic spots, watching for any suspicious activity. At first, the young woman hadn't quite understood why she'd been placed near the door since she wasn't exactly the tallest of people to be able to see everyone coming and going.

Her slight height, however, was part of the reason she'd been placed by the door. Pixie was short- not strangely short but just shorter than most her age- and she'd be easily overlooked by those entering and exiting. The black she was wearing helped the situation somewhat, making her blend in with those in the club to begin with.

A large group of people brushed past Pixie, causing her to move ever so slightly out of their way. The group had been bigger than she expected for she bumped into one of its many members as she went to reclaim her spot along the wall."Sorry," she mumbled, apologizing to the person she'd bumped into despite the fact that it probably wasn't necessary for her to do so.Looking up, Pixie's eyes widened just a fraction. She found herself staring at the confused face of the man they'd come here to speak with. Well, not "they" in the proper sense of the word. More like Trinity was going to speak with him while they rest of them kept back. She wasn't entirely sure why he looked confused; he just sort of did.Pixie watched as Neo passed, swept off into the growing crowd at the club they were stationed in. Swept off into the crowd and towards a meeting that had the potential to change the way he lived his life. Probably change how he thought about himself too considering the fact that, if he was indeed the One- if the One even existed- he was more Clark Kent than Superman.

With Neo gone, off in the crowd someplace, Pixie went back to her crowd watching. She leaned back against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest just so they weren't idly hanging at her sides. The situation seemed well in hand, nothing seemed amiss despite the fact that a group of freed minds had slipped into the Matrix and decided to stir up something akin to trouble."Can I buy you a drink?" called someone over the ever present din, forcing Pixie to look in his general direction.A loud rock song had started, someone in the crowd yelling that they loved this Rob Zombie song. The music was loud- loud in that way that you not only heard it with your ears but you felt it in your chest- and it was hard to hear anything but, if one strained their ears, they could almost make out what other people were saying."What was that?" she called, despite the fact she had heard the person's words."I asked if I could buy you a drink," the figure repeated, nearly screaming in order to make himself heard.Pixie looked in front of her and found herself nose to nose with the guy from the line. He had a bright green Mohawk and a leering smile on his face. Several earrings glinted from both ears and a something very much like a spike stuck out from his eyebrow. He was clad all in black leather like a biker gone insane."I don't want a drink," Pixie called in reply, "Thanks though."The rebel turned her attention back to the crowd, seeking out the nearest member of her crew. Through the mass of people, she couldn't see a single one much to her chagrin. Though she knew she had a job to do, Pixie couldn't help but wish that things sped up a bit so she could go home. The longer she stood holding up the wall near the entrance the more out of place and uncomfortable she found herself feeling."Do you want to dance then?" the biker looking figure asked.Pixie sighed, a sound that couldn't be heard over the noise that surrounded her. She had hoped her turning away from him would be taken as a sign that she wanted to be left alone. Maybe he'd think her rude or something and walk away. Pixie wasn't exactly keen on being rude but she knew that, in the Matrix, she could affect a certain…reputation…and go with it. Though it bothered her to be rude, she figured that, in order to keep this guy out of trouble, she should.

Apparently, it didn't work as the biker-gone-crazy looking person was still standing in front of her."I don't dance," Pixie shouted in reply, mentally adding, "Not like that and most certainly not with you.""So you're going to hold up that wall all night. Is that your grand plan?," he questioned, coming to lean on the wall next to her in a way that was supposed to be casual but it came off awkward."That was the general idea," Pixie replied, trying to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. He stood next to her in silence for a handful of moments, awkwardly moving along with the driving beat of the music. Inch by inch he was getting closer to Pixie and she found that she was running out of wall to move along. Eventually she was going to hit the door and there'd be no place left for her to run lest she wanted to leave her post.

Since she had no idea if Trinity had gotten the chance to speak to Neo there was no chance Pixie was going to leave her post. She figured that there had to be another was to get out of her uncomfortable situation."What happened to your girlfriend?" Pixie asked, "Won't she be angry that you're over here talking to me?"The guy shrugged noncommittally, making Pixie worry. There was more than a slight chance that she could have been wrong in her guess that the girl he'd been standing on line with had been his girlfriend. It was a shot in the dark and, with his shrug, Pixie was ready to assume that her shot had totally missed the intended target."She doesn't care either way. Maybe, I can bring you over and the three of us could get to know each other better," he proposed.Pixie made a small gagging sound from the back of her throat, inaudible in the loud club. The idea was something she wouldn't have gone for in the best of circumstances. Now, in circumstances she wasn't exactly comfortable in, it was something that was definitely never going to happen.

Deciding that telling him she'd rather go toe-to-toe with an Agent or two than do anything with him was a very bad idea, she said, "I don't think so, buddy. That's not my style.""Then what is your style?" the leather clad man asked, snaking a hand around Pixie's waist and pulling her close to him.His other arm reached over to grab her opposite shoulder. He maneuvered himself so that he was standing in front of Pixie with both arms around her in some fashion. A frown crossed Pixie's face and she wiggled, trying to get away but found that, despite how he looked, this individual was quite strong.She would have been quite content to let the guy off with a verbal warning when he did something not even Hawk would consider doing. Then again, Hawk knew better than to do anything like that. Pixie knew that Hawk wasn't afraid of her by any stretch of the imagination but he knew not to do things like that anyway. There was something keeping him from doing that to her. Maybe the specter of a certain scruffy looking The leather clad figure goosed the young rebel---pinching her hard on the rear.She moved so quickly that the poor guy didn't even have time to react. Before he could utter his intentions to Pixie, she had kneed him the groin.The biker-gone-crazy looking young man keeled over and looked up at the rebel with a pleading expression. He didn't understand what he had done wrong and why he had deserved what she had done to him.Pixie gave him a sarcastic smile and informed him that, "I don't like to be touched like that. Now, I suggest you leave before I decide to do something worse."The guy limped off, still slightly keeled over. Pixie did feel badly for acting in such a way but she knew it was sort of necessary. Maybe he'd be a better boyfriend now because of what she'd done.

"Hey, kid! Now that you're done scaring off the locals," Cypher called, from somewhere to Pixie's left, "let's get a move on. The next move is up to the big guy back home."

With a relieved sort of smile, Pixie trotted away from the wall and headed back to join the rest of her crew. She was glad to be going back to the cramped and chilly tin can she called home.


	8. Inside Out

AN: Hey everyone! As I'm writing this, Tom Glavine-a pitcher for the New York Mets- has won his three hundredth game. It's a big deal in the baseball world and it's just cool because Tom Glavine is one of my favorite pitchers. Well, he is now because he plays for the New York Mets (my favorite baseball team) but he wasn't always. You never really like or appreciate players when they're playing for other teams! Once they're on your team of choice, well, then you're their biggest fan. Yeah, I'm a baseball fan, by the way. Pitchers are really quite interesting people since they kind of control the fate of the game. A team can hit all the homeruns they want but if there's no pitching, well, there's a greater chance for them to lose. By the way, and on an odd note, there use to be a pitcher for the New York Mets (he's with the Tampa Bay Devil Rays now I think) with the last name Wheeler. He use to play for the Houston Astros so I use to have a good laugh whenever I had to write "Wheeler" in my score pad. By the way, that Wheeler never came to mind when I was writing about everyone's favorite Real World living former pitcher and close friend of Pixie. Anyway, enough about baseball (though I promise Wheeler will be showing up sooner or later)! To anyone out there reading this…thanks for taking time out to read this misadventure of mine! I'm always shocked to discover that anyone reads the things I write. To anyone who's left me a review….you're the best! You rock like a box of sock!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"I would swallow my pride,

I would choke on the rinds,

but the lack thereof would leave me empty inside,

swallow my doubt

turn it inside out

find nothing but faith in nothing…" (From "Inside Out" by Eve 6)

It wasn't long after her little…adventure…in the dark confines of the night club that other things happen. By "not long," the young woman actually meant the next day or, at least, what she perceived to be the next day. Though she'd worked on the ship she called home for about a year, Pixie still had issues trying to get her sense of time- the sense of when one day ended and the next began- put together.

In order to tell the difference between one day and the next, Pixie had started to employ a very rudimentary, rather childish method. It was the least scientific thing that she could think of and, if she shared her method with anyone else, especially her friend and fellow medic-in-training Aisling, it would probably get her laughed at.

In order to tell the difference between one day and the next, Pixie employed the theory that whenever she woke up from sleep- actual sleep and not the short almost nap that she got before taking her turn watching the Matrix and for Sentinels- it was a new day. Yes, the young woman was well aware of the fact her method was badly flawed and made little sense to anyone who wasn't her but it was how she decided to separate one day from the next.

Tired though she was, Pixie had been up with the rest of the _Nebuchadnezzar_ready and raring to work. The yawns that she kept stifling- she hadn't gotten much sleep after coming back from the night club- earned her more than a few questioning looks from Hawk but Pixie hadn't paid him much mind. She was still a bit…displeased…with what had transpired between the two of them the night before.

At the moment, and because she was done with whatever work she'd been assigned, Pixie busied herself watching Tank watching the monitors that showed the Matrix. The Core was still and silent, save for the occasional click of keyboard keys on the part of Tank. Save for herself and two individuals who couldn't go into the Matrix, the only other individuals on the _Nebuchadnezzar_were Mouse and Hawk and the two of them were supposed to be working someplace.

The rest of the ship's crew had gone into the Matrix to free Neo from his pod like prison, in theory anyway. No one was sure if Neo was even going to survive the unplugging process and the transition into the Real World because of his unusual age. He was older than the individual usually freed from the Matrix.

The Operator sighed, looking far more stressed than Pixie had ever seen him before. Pixie had seen Tank look worried and concerned before but never as stressed as he did in that moment. His stressed look seemed to grow just a bit more as something transpired within the Matrix and scrolled down in the form of the neon green code on the screens he was watching."Are you alright? What happened?" Pixie asked, knowing that Tank was well aware of the face she could read the Matrix code just like an Operator.

She'd learned how during her days as a student in Zion and not on the ship as most Pod Borns did. Still, Tank was Operator now and she didn't want to do his job. She had her own job to do, though; it wasn't a necessary job at the moment. Maybe later if Neo, indeed, took the red pill."He panicked and Agents got him. Not your fault, Pix. That information you gave us about the building was useful after all," Tank told the medic-in-training, turning away from his screens and keyboards to face the young woman standing just behind him."What's going to happen now?" Pixie asked, her tone more than a little worried.

Her worry was not just for Neo, who might have been the One though she wasn't sure she believed in that either, but for the rest of the crew still in the Matrix. She'd heard stories- both during her Academy days and from people she knew- about what Agents did to any freed mind they happened to get their hands on. Those stories had frightened her but hadn't stopped her from going into the Matrix and poking the preverbal sleeping dragon that was the Matrix.

"I'm sure Morpheus has something up his sleeve. We should be good as long as those Agents don't do anything too bad to him. He's still a battery and we all know they don't like losing their batteries," Tank told the young woman standing before him.Pixie nodded her understanding and hoped that Tank was right. She was well aware of the just how important this one hacker was to her captain. Important enough that he was breaking about a million and one rules just to get him out of the Matrix. Pixie had a funny feeling, though, that breaking that many rules wasn't a problem for Morpheus. From what she'd heard, he'd broken rules without batting an eye more than once, much to the chagrin of Commander Jason "Deadbolt" Lock, the man in charge of Zion's fleet.

The funny thing, at least in Pixie's estimation, was the fact that she didn't mind the fact they were breaking rules either. Most feared the commander and his wrath but Pixie enjoyed the fact they were bucking his rules. After all, Lock had tried to prevent her from working on a ship because of a technicality involving her birthday. That said, she wasn't exactly his biggest fan and breaking some of his rules wasn't a big deal to her.

"Shouldn't you be going with them later if they're trying to get Neo out again?" Tank questioned."Nope…as far as I know, I'm supposed to stay here and help your brother get the medical bay set up for Neo. He said that there's no telling how Neo will look if survives taking the red pill so he said we should be prepared for anything," Pixie answered as the phone near the Operator's chair started to ring.

Pixie waved, skittering off into the ship, as Tank set about getting the other members of the crew out of the Matrix. The young woman figured it was best if she stayed out of everyone's way for the time being. After what had happened- the agents getting their hands on Neo- she figured that spirits were going to be low.

From what Pixie gathered as she tried to be as inconspicuous as possible in the cramped confines of the ship she called home, the day's events in the Matrix had set the crew on edge. Some saw it as a sign that Neo wasn't supposed tobe unplugged while others took it to mean absolutely nothing. When asked for her own opinion- something that shocked Pixie because she figured her opinion mattered little- the young woman was at a loss for what to say. She wasn't the type to see signs and messages in everyday events.

Instead, she went for something a bit more…pragmatic…as her response. People, whether they lived in the Matrix or in Zion, were difficult to predict at the best times. Being asked to shimmy up to a roof was not the best of times for anyone, making things that much harder to predict.

In order to escape the rather muddled mood that was pervading the ship- it seemed to be part disappointment, part self-assured "I told you so," and part anger- Pixie escaped to the one place where she knew she could be of some use and have a good excuse for being there in the first place. Her feet, in more of a run than a walk, had taken her to the ship's medical bay. A space where she was supposed to have control, in theory anyway. Maybe when she became a proper medic and not just a medic-in-training.

She'd been working in silence for some time- checking stores of this, making sure they had enough of that, and, generally, putting things in order- when the clunking along of boots caught her attention. Pixie turned to find Mouse slouching into the room. He looked like someone had stepped on his puppy.

"What's wrong Mouse?" Pixie asked, closing the drawer with her back and wincing as its handle dug into the small of her back.

"They threw me out, again," the young man answered around an exasperated sigh.

Pixie smiled and tried to stifle a laugh. She could picture Mouse hovering around Tank's shoulders asking questions about everything or giving a running commentary about whatever happened to be on his mind at the moment. Pixie was guilty of watching over Tank's shoulders but she'd kept quiet. The young woman guessed that Mouse's talkative ways had gotten him banished from the Core.

"Everyone's on pins and needles after what happened this morning. Today's supposed to be the big day, after all," Pixie pointed out in a logical tone, "I guess that no one wants their concentration disturbed as they try to figure out what to do next."

She climbed up onto one of the metal tables used for examining patients, sitting down and kicking her boots off. The boots fell to the ground with a metallic bang as Pixie tucked her legs underneath her Indian style.

"Why do you always do that?" Mouse wanted to know, coming to sit next to her on the examination table.

There might not really have been space for both of them on the table, especially with Pixie's knees taking up their fair share of room, but they two of them managed it. After all Pixie was built very narrow and thin and Mouse wasn't exactly the biggest of people, himself.

"What? Take my boots off?" Pixie countered, "It's harder to sit like this with them on so I take them off. The only downside it the fact that my feet are now freezing."

Mouse gave a short laugh and, in a slightly serious- Serious for Mouse anyway- voice, asked, "What do you think will happen if he doesn't take the red pill?"

Pixie shrugged, unsure of how to answer the posed question. It was a question she, herself, had but one she wasn't keen on voicing. Asking such a question, especially asking it of Morpheus, seemed like an invitation to trouble. That assumed, Pixie kept the question to herself, wondering what would happen without voicing anything.

"I know if he takes the blue pill, Morpheus is going to be crushed. He's put a great deal of faith in this Neo and truly believes he's the One," Pixie replied, after a thoughtful pause.

"What do you think, doc," Mouse proposed, "is he the One?"

Pixie shrugged, a move barely noticeable under the baggy sweater she was wearing and answered, "I'm not entirely sure, myself. I don't even know if the One exists and, if he does, I'd like to know how one person is going to save all of us. That seems like a tall order for one person, even if he's supposed to have skills that will help him end this war. Maybe, I'm one of those people who has to see it to believe it I guess."

"I believe he's the One," Mouse, matter of factly, stated, "Once he gets here, I bet you'll feel the same way."

"Mouse, I hate to point this out but, you also believe that time with your Lady-in-the-Red-Dress is time well spent. I'm not even going to try to imagine what you do while you're in that program," Pixie retorted, making a disgusted face but still laughing as she spoke.

The-Lady-in-the-Red-Dress was the biggest feather in Mouse's programming cap. He spent nearly as much time talking about her as he did in programs into which she had been programmed. He'd offered time with her to nearly every member of the crew with, to Pixie's knowledge, only Hawk accepting the offer. He'd even offered her time with the digital female but Pixie had, politely, declined the offer, stating that it wasn't something she'd be interested in.

"The offer still stands. I'll program you a guy if you want," Mouse brought up with a smile.

Pixie shook her head. Unlike the person sitting next to her, she had trouble reconciling doing anything other than training with a programmed figure. Hawk had once tried to tell her about his exploits with The-Lady-in-the-Red-Dress but she had walked away even before he'd gotten started. Just the thought of what he might say in its barest, least descriptive form was enough to paint her face a vivid crimson.

"No thanks, Mouse," Pixie countered, "As much as I appreciate your offer…I'll find something a little realer for myself."

"Hawk said you already found someone," Mouse pointed out, sounding slightly concerned, "He said you and some guy you know did some stuff in Zion."Pixie stared, wide eyed, at the programmer sitting next to her. She wasn't sure how Hawk had found out about her and Wheeler, chances were that she probably didn't want to know, but the idea that he even knew concerned her in a big way. She was afraid of what he might try to do if he was able to contact Wheeler on the _Shatterpoint_. She wasn't concerned with what Wheeler might say to Hawk- Wheeler's dislike for Hawk was well documented and, at least in Pixie's mind, well deserved. - but she was with what Hawk might say to Wheeler. He might say something to make Wheeler angry and put Wheeler's position on the _Shatterpoint_ in jeopardy as a result of his anger. "Now, I have no idea how Hawk found out about Wheeler-You, actually know Wheeler. When we use to hang out back in the Academy he was the scruffy haired boy that always sat next to me in class and at lunch. - but he and I only kissed. That's it," Pixie informed Mouse, her face getting just a bit redder.

The strange thing was that talking about Wheeler made Pixie, suddenly, miss him that much more. She hadn't spoken to him since her leaving Zion and now she found herself wanting to talk to him. Pixie couldn't exactly say where such feelings came from since she, generally, was able to keep her life in Zion separate from her work on the _Nebuchadnezzar_. Sure, she talked to her friends, especially Wheeler, when she was able but she'd never felt such an overwhelming need to go off and talk to any of them. It was a frightening feeling to say the least.

"I could always make you a digital version of him to keep you company," Mouse offered with a waggle of the eyebrows, "Come on, Pix, we all have needs that need to be taken care of."

The fact she missed Wheeler aside, Pixie, flatly, stated, "Mouse, no. That's not something I'd be interested in."

The programmer looked hurt for a second, having his skilled rebuffed. His look turned from hurt to curious as he spotted Pixie slipping off of the table and seating herself on the floor. On the cold metal floor, Pixie pulled her boots back on her sock covered feet.

"Come onMouse," Pixie said, "Let's go get something to eat. I have a very strange feeling that if this guy takes the red pill, we're all going to be very busy later and I don't know about you but I don't like being busy on an empty stomach."


	9. Torn

AN: Hey everyone! What's going on? The summer's winding down and the school year is starting to loom closer. I found out I have to take one lousy class in order for my grade on my Master's Exam to count. I also have to submit a pile of paperwork in order to be able to even finish out the program! Here I was thinking that it was just take the exam and be done with it! Ah well…what's one more class, right? The funny thing is, though, I don't really mind that the whole school year and stuff is starting. For me, the school year starting means both dance lessons and Girl Scouts start too! Anyway, I hope you're all enjoying whatever you're doing, whether or not you're getting ready for school! I can say for almost certain that, once school starts, I'll still be able to make regular updates. After all, school is just one day a week for me. Alright…enough about that! A big "thank you" to everyone out there still reading this mess. I hope I'm doing alright by the characters that aren't my own creation! To everyone out there reviewing this misadventure…another great big "thank you" goes out to you! You rock like a box of socks.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"I'm cold and I am shamed  
Lying naked on the floor  
Illusion never changed  
Into something real  
I'm wide awake and I can see the perfect sky is torn  
You're a little late I'm already torn…" (From "Torn" by Natalie Imbruglia)

Pixie's brandy brown eyes studied the neon green rain that fellow down the monitors before her. Her eyes were glued to one monitor, any questions, concerns, or queries kept to herself. As a matter of fact, she was trying to keep herself as still and as silent as she possibly could lest she disturb Tank. Tank- Despite the fact he was watching the monitors just like she was. - had an important job if and when Neo took the red pill.

The young woman didn't want to disturb him once that event, if that event, happened. Pixie had been privy to one other freeing before Neo but that had been of a teenage boy. That sort of freeing was considered to be common place, even normal. Well, as normal as things could get given the world she lived in.

Neo's freeing- If, indeed, he took the red pill- was a whole other matter. From what she'd been told by both Dozer and Morpheus, freeing and rebuilding Neo was going to be quite different from her previous experience. She'd been told, when Morpheus wasn't around which made her feel more than a little guilty, that no one was quite sure if Neo was even going to make it to his rebuilding. There was more than a small chance that he wouldn't survive the rather stressful unplugging process.

Though she'd kept it to herself, not wanting to get into any arguments nor have anyone think she was leaning one way or the other when it came to the whole idea of the "One," Pixie figured that Neo might be able to make it through his unplugging. After all, she'd been quite sick when she'd taken the red pill and she'd made it through. Still, on the day of her freeing, on the day she got to see the truth for herself, she'd been only fifteen years old. That also had to count for something as well.

From what she could gather, on the monitor that her eyes were glued to, it was quite late in the Matrix and it was raining. Bleak weather to say the least. The kind of weather that made someone want to curl up in bed and forget about the world around them. The sort of weather that made someone think twice before heading outside for any reason.

It seemed, though, that Neo had no such issues when it came to the driving rain. He'd gotten into the car with the others, heading off towards the unknown.

"Where are they?" she asked in a quiet voice, not really meaning to speak aloud but finding that the words escaped anyway.

"En route to Morpheus," Tanks told Pixie, his tone rather excited sounding.

Though he was turned facing the bank of screens and Pixie was just peering over his shoulder, the young woman assumed that Tank looked just as excited as he sounded. She guessed that the prospect of being able to train someone who just might be the One had captured the interest of the Operator. Either that or just the idea of freeing someone from the Matrix was enough to excite Tank. Pixie wasn't entirely sure since she'd gone into the Matrix the last time someone was freed from their jelly and metal prison.

"Do you think Neo's going to take the red pill?" Pixie asked, trying to keep the fact she was curious out of her voice and failing miserably at it.

Thus far, and as far as she knew, everyone had their own opinions about Neo, and what he was going to do. Some felt he was going to take the red pill and turn out to be just another individual freed from the Matrix. Others, like Mouse and Morpheus, were so convinced that he was the One that it was almost frightening.

Pixie wasn't sure to which group she belonged but she was somewhat convinced that Neo was going to take the red pill. What happened after that, whether or not he was the One, was still very much up in the air.

"I don't think he's going to take it," Tank pointed out, "I know he's going to take it. There's just no other option now. Not after everything he's been through today."

A small smile crossed Pixie's face as she turned her attention back to the bevy of screens that surrounded Tank. She wasn't sure how, after who knew how long because she didn't feel right asking, Tank managed to stay so enthusiastic. It seemed a strange contrast to some of the others on the ship. There were just some days when the entire ship had an overly serious air around it.

The medic-in-training understood just how dangerous what they were doing was but, still, it didn't seem to due to be that serious all the time. True, she, herself, had been accused of being too serious on a number of occasions but that wasn't the point. She, like any other nineteen year old, had her moments where she wasn't as serious. It was just that not many people- namely Hawk who liked to level such an accusation at her when he wasn't pleased with her- saw her that way.

Being part of a society that was so dependent on TV for entertainment for a good chunk of her life, Pixie found that watching the monitors showing the scrolling rain that was the Matrix code a very odd substitute. It had a TV quality about it but what you wanted to watch was far broader in topic. It was sort of, in Pixie's opinion anyway, like trying to watch several things all at once without going into depth with any of them.

What came closer to what Pixie recalled as television was watching someone in the ship's own programs. Though grainy, the image too less time to puzzle out. All the monitors showed was the scrolling green code that comprised the Matrix. Technically, Pixie knew she could translate the code into images but it was, sometimes, difficult to get the small nuances of things. Sometimes it was just the big picture, so to speak.

"I hope he doesn't take it just to disappoint all of you," Hawk, flatly, stated, speaking from the other side of the room, "It might be fun to see what Morpheus does then."

How long he'd been lurking there was anyone's guess. Like Mouse, Hawk had been banned from the Core earlier in the day. The reasons for his banning, though, were quite different from Mouse's. Where Mouse was a ball of eager energy, wanting to help somehow, in some way, Hawk just stood around getting in the way. His dry humor- or what he felt was dry humor. Pixie, sometimes, felt that he said mean things just to say them.- wasn't exactly the most welcome thing either.

Pixie assumed that Hawk was jealous of all the attention Neo was getting and all the power he was suppose to have. Hawk liked to consider himself the single most powerful person on the ship, no matter what he saw others do. This new person posed the single greatest threat to that ideal.

"You're not supposed to be in here," Pixie stated, turning slightly so she was half facing Hawk, "I thought Morpheus told you to work down someplace in the ship today?"

"You're not supposed to be here either, Pixie Sticks," Hawk countered, walking over to where Pixie was standing, "You're a rookie, same as me, so it figures that you shouldn't be allowed up here with the big kids. Even if they allowed you to play with them before."

He slid himself between her and the operator's chair, making sure to physically touch her while brushing past. Pixie heaved an exasperated sigh, annoyed that Hawk had to not only pick the spot where she was standing to interject himself but he had to touch her in the process, and settled herself on the other side of Tank's chair in order to get some distance between herself and Hawk.

Lately, he'd been colder than usual to her. Not that he was ever extremely nice to her or anything like that. Some days he was civil and other days, well, that was a horse of a different color. It was almost as if there were two Hawks on the ship and Pixie never knew which one she was dealing with at any given time. Mostly, Pixie just tried to avoid Hawk just to be on the safe side.

"I think I'm allowed to be here, considering I was asked to come up here to watch," Pixie retorted, her tone more than a little snappish.

"Well, if you're so high and mighty, why aren't you in there with them? Did something to break up that little trust they have in you, kiss up?" Hawk questioned, in a mocking voice.

To add insult to injury, Hawk started to make little kissing sounds. Pixie took a deep breath and let it out, trying to calm herself down. She wasn't one to get angry or start needless fights but the more Hawk spoke, the more annoyed Pixie was finding herself getting. The young woman didn't want to start something standing in the middle of the Core, especially now given what was going on in the Matrix. She figured the last thing Tank needed was a fight interrupting his concentration.

Much to her delight, a light started flashing on Tank's Operator console. A red light started to wink and blink, letting the Operator and anyone else who happened to be in the immediate vicinity. Someone, an individual in the Matrix, was trying to make contact with the ship she called home.

"Let's get the party started," Tank mumbled, before jamming his headset back on his head.

Pixie stepped back, giving the Operator room to work. Tank started to type, working faster than Pixie had ever seen him work before. His fingers flew over the multitude of keyboards at such a blinding rate that, after a few moments, Pixie lost track of what he was doing. His banging on the keys was loud enough to make the entire console rattle just a bit.

"Guess Neo took the red pill," Pixie surmised, keeping back and continuing to stare at Tank with wide eyes.

She'd always known that Tank was a good operator but she'd never seen him work this quickly or intensely before. His entire focus was on whatever was happening in the Matrix, whatever he was being asked to do by someone on the other side of his headset.

"I'm working on it. I'm working on it," Tank, very nearly, shouted into his headset, no longer bothering to even spare the second it took to look at the keyboards his hands were flying across.

His answer appeared to come in response to something someone at the other end of the line had said. He was becoming frantic now, banging on the keys so hard that the console began to rattle even harder. His eyes, as Pixie could see in the reflections in the many monitors, were darting frantically across the screens as if they were seeking one small thing.

"What's he so upset about?" Hawk asked, sounding nonplused by what was going on before him.

To Pixie's mind and possibly a result of the fact Hawk chose that moment to yawn so widely she was convinced his jaw might come unhinged, her once friend looked bored by what was happening around him. Where this was a big deal for everyone, he was acting like this was something ordinary and boring.

"If he doesn't get a signal, they we're not going to know which disposal chute to get to. We don't find the right chute, Neo drowns," Pixie told Hawk.

"Some loss that would be," Hawk quipped, "That would just be the icing on the cake. We get that sucker out of the Matrix and he doesn't last five minutes."

"Got him!" Tank called, triumphantly, into his headset, "brining you all in."

Turning around in his chair, wide smile on his face, Tank said, "You two make yourselves useful back there and get everyone unhooked. Start on the far side over there."

Pixie started to move towards the far side of the room, to start unplugging the others as they "woke up." She turned, not hearing a second set of boots on the metal grating that served as the floor, and found Hawk just standing there like a statue with his arms crossed over his chest.

It seemed he had no intentions of helping out, like he had been asked to. She stalked back a few steps with a frown on her face. It seemed his was almost determined to try and either push her over the edge or get her as close to the edge as humanly possible without knocking her over.

"Come on," she said in her most threatening sounding voice.

She yanked on his sleeve, making an attempt to pull him along with her. He gave a stutter step and pulled back, grounding his feet. In the Real World, Pixie wasn't strong enough to move him and Hawk knew that. In the Matrix, things might have been different, given Pixie's acrobatic tendencies, but not on the ship where the laws of nature still applied.

"Lazy," she grumbled, before going off to do what she had been asked.

Pixie worked quickly---well, as quickly as she possibly could considering she was working alone. Tank was still sitting at his station focused on feeding coordinates to his brother sitting in the ship's cockpit. Hawk was standing around being as useless as humanly possible. Where Mouse was, Pixie couldn't even begin to guess.

Once she had gotten everyone unplugged, she stepped back to catch her breath. Morpheus looked far more excited than she had ever seen him. His success had, obviously, started his adrenalin going. It was saying something, Pixie guessed, that her usually stoic and serious captain was visible excited. It spoke to just how important Neo's freeing going well was to him.

"How far Tank?" the captain called, as soon as he was freed from the confines of the hanging chair.

Tank rattled off a string of numerical values so fast that Pixie felt herself going cross eyed. From the concerned look that crossed the captain's face, she assumed that they were quite a ways off from where Neo would be flushed out.

Pixie, not wanting to get stuck in the crowd that she knew was going to gather, walked down to the loading bay with Hawk in tow. There she found the missing Mouse, standing there looking either very excited or very nervous. Pixie wasn't entirely sure.

"How come you didn't come up to the Core?" she asked, settling herself on top of a very large metallic container.

"They said I wasn't allowed," Mouse replied, sounding slightly hurt, "I wanted to though."

"Well, they let me stay but I'm me and you're not," Hawk commented, wearing a very smug look on his face.

Pixie shook her head, wondering where in the world Hawk got these error filled ideas from. Hopefully, no one was lying to him by telling him how great he was. Then again, was it worse if he had made these ideas up all on his own?

"Ignore him," Pixie told the programmer, "I try to as often as possible. There wasn't much to see, though, except Tank working. It's different when you're on the other side."

"You ignore me because you love me," Hawk informed Pixie, in a mocking sort of voice, "Maybe more than your little baseball player in Zion."

"I love you like I love being chased by Agents. Let's just drop this," Pixie commented pulling her legs up underneath her as she sat atop a container.

Thinking for a moment, she added, "And leave Wheeler out of this. He has nothing to do with any of this. You just don't like him, that's all."

She was toying with the idea of shoving Hawk out the hatch they would open to lower the crane when the rest of the crew came barging down. At least the arrival of the others kept the thoughts of Hawk out of her head. It gave her something new to focus on and would, hopefully, get Hawk to leave her alone.

"Are we there yet?" questioned Mouse, in his best little-kid-in-the-back-of-the-car voice.

"I just hope we are not too late," Morpheus intoned.

The hatch was opened, illuminating a tiny patch in the dingy water. Pixie watched, trying not to think about what lived in the stagnating pools and what those things could do to a person who was newly unplugged, as a savage looking claw was lowered from the ship with the groan and creak of much used but not oiled metal.

It dipped below the surface of the water, a machine on the ship giving it slack and allowing it to go deeper and deeper into the pool. It reminded Pixie of one of those claw machines that could be found at some arcades. Those claws would dip into a pile of prizes and, hopefully, come up with something between its metal pincers.

Tense moments passed, most of the crew watching with bated breath. Even if they didn't believe, unplugging someone who was as old as Neo was something to see. There was no telling how bad or how good he was going to look when he came up.

The gears of the winch began to whine, as the machine changed directions. With the groan of rusty, overworked metal, the claw began to ascend back into the belly of the ship.

Venturing a look out of the hatch without leaving her perch, Pixie caught a glimpse of a tiny white figure being pulled out of the water. Even from the great distance, she could tell that it was a person. The way the arms and legs fell attested to that.

Pale white and hairless, the machine dropped Neo to the floor of the ship. He looked far different from the exhausted looking programmer she had seen that day she had paid a visit to his office or the wide eyed, confused man she had seen just a day previous at the club. Now, he reminded her of a very large infant.

In her medical opinion, such as it was, he seemed a little more lucid than Eurisko had been. He was able to make good eye contact with Morpheus as the dark skinned captain regarded him for a moment and repeated a phrase Pixie had heard on the occasion of her own freeing from the Matrix.

"Welcome to the Real World."


	10. Weird Science

AN: Welcome back my friends to the show that never ends! Well, like I probably always say when I use that quote, there's an end to this story, of course. It wouldn't be good if there was no ending to it. It's just that ending is a good bit off. There are still quite a few misadventures to be had before the end is in sight. Well, misadventures for Pixie anyway as she rides along with everyone's favorite soon to be One. Like I said before, Pixie's and Hawk are going to be unobtrusive little spectators for most of this ride. They won't be getting into any of the major action since I don't want to totally mess up the movies. Besides, they have their own…issues…to attend to. Anyway, hope everyone's having a good what's left of the summer. I saw the movie _Stardust_ recently, after reading the book, of course. Though the book was a bit better and the movie did mix things up a bit, it was still a really, really cute movie and a nice little fairy tale. Anywho, back to the point! Thanks to everyone out there still reading this little misadventure and thanks a bunch to anyone who's left me a review. You're the best!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Fantasy and microchips

Shooting from the hip

Something different

We're makin'

Weird science…" (From "Weird Science" by Oingo Boingo)

Everyone- That is, everyone who worked as a medic on a ship in some capacity- knew that rebuilding an individual took time. The amount of time varied by age as the younger someone was, the less time it took for them to "bounce back," so to speak and regain the ability to move about just like anyone else. That wasn't written in stone, of course, because, as was the case with any rule, there were always exceptions. There was always the one story about the one young person who's rebuilding too extra time for whatever reason they had.

Still, the rule of thumb was that the younger the person was the shorter amount of time it took to rebuild them. The other side of that rule was the idea that the older an individual was, the longer it took for them to be rebuilt. In a way that made some sort of sense to Pixie, who'd spent the better part of the past few days musing on what she knew about rebuildings.

If the rules actually applied the way they, technically, were supposed to- Without any of those nasty exceptions that were so annoying- the young woman figured that Neo's rebuilding would take about…forever. Unless he was one of those exceptions she'd learned about during her days in the Academy. It was probably best to hope he was an exception because it probably wasn't a good thing for the rebuilding of the many who might, potentially be the person to save the Real World, to take just about forever.

After all, forever was a really long time to wait for anything.

A handful of days had elapsed since Neo had been brought on board the ship Pixie called home. The young woman, spending more of her time now in the role of medic-in-training than any other role she usually wore, was starting to consider curling up on one of the metallic tables and spending the nights down there. That was just how much of her time she was spending down there.

According to Morpheus' orders, someone was to be with Neo at all times. Someone had to be there just in case something went horribly wrong. Be it she, Dozer or the captain, himself, down in the medical bay doing the routine "stuff" that was involved in a normal rebuilding or Trinity who just seemed very interested in coming down to sit with Neo, there was always someone in the space.

Pixie, being the rookie of the group, usually found herself taking the late shifts, watching over the prone form of the man who was supposed to save the Real World. Her only consolation was that the late shifts watching Neo got her exempt from her late shifts on guard in the Core. Pixie was almost certain that she wouldn't have been able to do both without losing her mind…or what was left of her mind anyway.It was probably a good thing, then, that there were very few serious injuries where the rest of the crew was concerned. Having to deal with both Neo's rebuilding and someone needing a limb reattached- for example- wasn't anyone's idea of a good time. Sure, there was a final check of Hawk's broken fingers to deal with but that was no big deal. It was something Pixie could do quickly which was, in her mind, a good thing.

The less time she spent around Hawk, the better in her mind anyway. The more time she spent around Hawk, the less she liked him. There was just something about the way he'd been acting, especially with Neo surviving his freeing, that was giving Pixie a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach. She couldn't say why but he just did.

There was also the feeling that she needed to go talk to Wheeler after talking to Hawk but that was a horse of a different color. Pixie figured that talking to Wheeler was out of the question for the moment. She didn't have access to anything communications related because she was spending time in the medical bay.

With a sigh, covering up a yawn, Pixie slipped off of the table she'd been sitting on and headed for one of the drawers in the room. Her intention was to do, yet another, blood test on Neo just to check the state of his immune system and the bacterial that were making their home in his body. Colonizing him just as they colonized every other individual who came out of the Power Plant or born in Zion.Truthfully, Pixie had been pretty sure that, at first, Neo wasn't going to make it. The initial blood tests they'd taken showed that while Neo's body was being colonized like it was supposed to, his immune system wasn't playing its normal role. If anything, it was slow in responding to the bacterial that was trying to make its home in his body. A situation like that could lead to all sorts of ugly things.

Things that a shipboard medical bay might not be able to handle. Not for lack of skill in the medic department- Dozer was an excellent medic and Pixie figured that she could do what she could in a pinch- but because the ship wasn't stocked to handle such situations. To fix something like that, they'd have to go back to Zion and Pixie wasn't sure there was enough time to do that.

Neo, eventually, started to take a turn for the better, though. The levels of harmful bacteria in the blood were starting to subside and the white blood cell levels were increasing…a sure sign that his immune system had decided to wake up and kick in. He was on the mend and things were even starting to look up.

Well, look up as much as they could considering Neo was still a long way off from joining the walking members of the Real World. There was still plenty of rebuilding, plenty lying on his back in a half awake-half asleep state as they tried to get him in good working order.Pixie inserted the syringe into a jack in Neo's arms and drew off a small amount of blood. She walked over, prepared to place the sample into one of the machines what would analyze it and spilt out the desired results, when a noise from Neo brought her back to the table.

He moaned again, eyes fluttering open to find a harsh bank of lights glaring above him. Unlike Eurisko and, apparently, herself, Neo was drifting into and out of consciousness. He'd woken up once or twice before but just for a handful of moments. That was taken to be a positive thing since, according to Morpheus anyway, he was able to respond to outside stimuli and his neural connections were functioning without any input from the Matrix.

In her own "medical"- and she was using that term very loosely because Pixie still didn't feel right calling herself a "medic' in any sense of the word- opinion, Neo's opening his eyes and even speaking were good signs. Any signs of his brain being able to work without the Matrix's help meant that he, despite his age and the supposed reliance on the Matrix people his age had, could survive without the machine's telling him what was going on.

"Go back to sleep," Pixie urged, walking around so that Neo could see who was talking to him without having to pick his head up, "It's very late and we're still working on making you better."

"What's wrong with me?" he croaked, his voice still a bit hoarse from disuse.

"You're still weak from taking the red pill. We're working on fixing you up," Pixie told Neo, in a soft voice.

Giving him a friendly sort of smile- Bedside manner was something she'd been told she'd have to improve. Being nervous when speaking with patients wasn't exactly the best way to give them a good impression. - Pixie added, "You're safe now. No one's going to hurt you while you're here."

That might not have been entirely true but the young woman didn't want to scare Neo. It was bad enough that he was in a new situation, a situation that was a far cry from the one he'd thought he'd been in. Pixie didn't want to make it worse by scaring him.

"Thanks," Neo mumbled, laying flat and staring at the ceiling once again.

Neo's eyes closed once again leaving Pixie to wonder if he'd fallen asleep or blacked out again. There were ways she could check, or course, but pulling out all the leads for the machines involved was far more work than she could do alone. Plus she didn't want to wake anyone with the banging and clanging she was sure she was going to make while working.

Checking his pulse and heart rate, both within the normal range, Pixie decided to leave well enough alone. With one final look at her latest patient, Pixie went back to waiting for her results.

Not before turning and telling Neo, "You're welcome," though she wasn't entirely sure what he was thanking her for. It just seemed nice to respond to that, let Neo know his thanks were appreciated even if he couldn't hear her.


	11. Dare You To Move

AN: Hiya everyone! Well, it's that time of the year again…for me anyway. I'm supposed to start classes on Tuesday morning. Well, technically, class anyway. I'm only taking one class this semester and only because I have to. If I don't take one class, the grade I got on my Master's Exam (a/k/a the MCD) that I took in June won't count and I would have studied and taken the test for absolutely nothing. Since it took me about four months to study for the exam, I would rather the grade count! Either way, I promise that, barring some sort of horrible turn of events, I should be able to keep updating this little misadventure. Hopefully, you're all having a good time either in school or getting ready for it or doing whatever it is you're up to at the moment! Anyway, I hope you're all enjoying my little misadventure here. I'm trying my best to stay true to the characters and the whole idea _The Matrix_ trilogy embodies with my own characters. I'm not entirely sure if I'm all that successful all the time, though. To anyone who's still out there reading this, you're awesome and thanks a bunch. To anyone who's left me a review, you rock like a box of socks! Thanks for all your insight and comments!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Welcome to the planet

Welcome to existence

Everyone's here

Everyone's here

Everybody's watching you now

Everybody waits for you now

What happens next?..." (from "Dare You To Move" by Switchfoot)

"Sir, not to question you or anything but do you think he's going to wake up any time soon?" Pixie asked, feeling a bit sheepish for asking such a question of her captain.

At the moment, the young woman was kneeling over the still out cold Neo- He was alive and his brain was working sure, but he still hadn't regained total consciousness yet- replacing the IV that was supplying his body with the necessary nutrients that would keep him alive until he woke up. Once he woke up Pixie figured he'd probably be put on what could creatively be called a "solid food" diet. Pixie wasn't exactly sure what to quantify the single celled…goop…they ate as. It was sort of solid but partly liquid as well. Maybe, semi-solid was the best way to quantify it…not exactly a liquid but not exactly a solid either.

Either way, there was a long running debate between her and her friends in Zion about whether you ate or slurped- like soup. That was another food that had spawned a long debate between her and her friends, actually. -the single celled substance. Since it was, basically, a semi-solid, Pixie wasn't exactly sure if she could call the diet Neo would have upon his gaining total consciousness, a "solid food" diet. It was the best description she could come up with, though, since what he would be "eating" wasn't totally liquid either.

Pixie tapped the IV tubing a few times before opening the stopper, just to make sure there were no bubbles in the line. Bubbles, she knew, could lead to all sorts of issues, even when the IV was inserted through a plug in someone's arm. She watched for a moment, making sure the line had no kinks in it. Secure in the knowledge that it was running smoothly, Pixie took in the sight before her.

Neo's rebuilding had been declared "completed" a few days earlier and, by all accounts, it had gone well. There were moments, more than one which Pixie learned was uncommon even with older teens, when Neo almost seemed lucid. He was able to ask questions and, even, complain that his eyes were bothering him, much to her amusement. It wasn't funny that his eyes were bothering him, of course, because being hurt wasn't exactly the most fun feeling in the world. Instead, she found it just a bit amusing that Neo had complained about his eyes hurting him.

With that in mind, Pixie couldn't really understand why he hadn't completely woken up yet. She was worried that, despite the fact he'd made it this far already, Neo was too old, the process too strenuous for his Real World form. After all the work they'd put in- "they" being Morpheus and Dozer with her helping out where and when she could- it just seemed a shame to lose him now. The fact Neo just might be the One, if such an individual existed, had never crossed her mind. Her worries were more founded on the fact he was just another bald headed human being.

"I have all the confidence in the world, Pixie, that he will wake up sometime soon. All we have to do is wait for that day to come," Morpheus told the medic-in-training.

He was standing in the doorway of the small cabin, watching Pixie work. It wasn't that he was overseeing her work- watching her to make sure she was following protocol and not making any mistakes that might endanger Neo's life- or anything of the sort. No, Morpheus trusted that Pixie knew what she was doing. Putting in an IV was simple work and Morpheus was confident that Pixie had mastered "simple" within her first few weeks of medical training in Zion. Plus, she'd had plenty of time and opportunities to practice those simple things.

It was more like Morpheus had asked her to change the IV and he felt it necessary to stay and watch. Leaving would have been somewhat rude, since he had interrupted her repair work in the first, and Pixie, despite the fact she still carried the "in training," deserved some measure of respect. After all, she was a good soldier and an apt trainee to have on board his craft.

Something about the way Morpheus was watching her as she worked was making Pixie very nervous. He was watching her with his patented- or, if it wasn't patented and there was such a thing as patenting in Zion, then he really should paten it- Chershire Cat smile firmly in place. It almost felt like any one of the days she'd taken any one of the practical medical exams that were given in Zion. Just the idea of someone watching over her shoulder was a bit unnerving to her.

Pixie was just trying to get by without making any obvious mistakes, especially when it came to something as simple as putting in an IV line. She didn't want Morpheus to think all the, very much appreciated time, he and Dozer had put into training her thus far had gone to waste. The young woman felt that there wasn't much he could do with certain skill but putting in an IV ranked among the things she could do.

Then again, Pixie was well aware of the fact that all of her worrying might have been for nothing. It might have been just something she cooked up in her head. There were plenty of times that she'd done that too. Back during her days in the Zion Academy, Pixie was infamous, among her friends anyway, for being stressed and nervous over things that were made up in her head. There was always some ring of truth but her imagination blew it out of proportion. To the point where she'd wind up making herself sick.

It wasn't exactly the most fun thing in the world but Pixie really couldn't help it. She was just one of those very nervous sort of people who were prone to worrying about everything in the Real World, real or imagined.

Allowing a small smile to cross her face since her back was to her captain, Pixie announced, "It's working well. This should last him for a while I think. I could be wrong about that, though. I'll make sure to check later though…only if you want."

Pixie turned to face her captain as he pointed out, "I trust your medical opinion, Pixie, and I will make sure to check back on Neo later. I believe you were in the middle of working when I interrupted you."

"Not really, sir," Pixie answered, staring down at her feet, "I wasn't really doing anything important. I was, actually, trying to fix one of the ducts outside my room."

Her face a bright red since she was feeling a bit foolish at the moment, Pixie added, "There's a duct just outside my room and it has a leak. I'm almost sure that the leak is driving me crazy."

Pixie knew that was mostly her imagination. The door to her room was pretty thick, just like all of the other doors on the ship, and the ship was rather loud because of the power generators. Though, to tell the truth, Pixie didn't really hear the hum of the generators that kept the ship running. She'd gotten so use to the noise that it had faded into the background, so to speak. The sound was there, true, but it wasn't really since Pixie no longer heard it.

Morpheus chuckled, a deep throated sort of sound, and looked as if he wanted to ruffle Pixie's hair for some reason. There were times when the captain had to forcibly remind himself that Pixie was over eighteen years old. At the moment, with her face bright red and eyes looking at her boots, Morpheus might have been hard pressed to believe Pixie was nineteen years old. He might have been inclined to say she was younger than that.

"I'll let you get back to your work, then," the captain told her, "thank you for helping me here."

The answer struck Pixie as rather strange, since Morpheus was just as able a medic as she was training to become, but the young woman didn't say anything. She mumbled a "thank you" and went back to climbing around in the ship's duct work. That elusive leak was going to be found and repaired, even if it was the last thing Pixie did that day.

Morpheus watched his medic-in-training wander back down the hall, heading a short ways down to her own door. He knew she didn't really believe in the whole idea of "the One" but, then, she didn't not believe in it either. Pixie was one of those "wait and see" types. Still, Morpheus was glad that she'd put whatever her beliefs were aside to do her part. That much he really did appreciate.

A few weeks and several IV bags later, Pixie found herself wandering around the Core of the ship she called home. She'd been assigned to help with repairs- It always seemed like something on the ship had to be fixed making Pixie wonder just how old the craft really was.- but, so far, no one had told her what to do. She'd been given no specific task to undertake leading to the rather useless standing around she was now doing.

"Pix, see if you can't wedge yourself in between those two consoles and find the source of the clanking noises. If you do find it, see what you can do about it," Trinity ordered, noting said standing around and doing something about it before she got on with her own welding related repairs.

Pixie laughed for a moment and started to unbuckle her boots. She could fit herself between the two large pieces of machinery quiet easily- as a result of her narrow build- but found that her clunky boots caused more problems than they were worth. She had gotten into the habit of taking them off every time she had to work in tight places.

It might have made work easier but, as her sock covered feet touched the grated metal that made up the floor, Pixie recalled the one downside to her little discovery. The floor of the ship always felt brutally cold under her feet. What's more, the grating didn't exactly feel comfortable either. Still, it beat having to try and maneuver the boots into tight spaces so Pixie was willing to sacrifice comfort for practicality.

"Mouse," she requested, "can you watch my boots and I don't mean watch Hawk or someone walk off with them?"

He mumbled an affirmative reply, keeping his mind on whatever he was suppose to be doing. Though he acted like some sort of crazy, perverse child, Mouse, when he wanted do, could focus on one task with an almost tunnel vision, narrow minded dedication. Apparently, whatever he was up to at the moment was such a task.

Pixie shouldered her equipment belt and shimmied her way between the two hulking pieces of machinery. The fit wasn't exactly tight, nor was it uncomfortable, but it was an awkward sort of fit. There was quite a bit of bending involved in order to get to what Pixie thought was the source of the clanking noise.

Body bent at an odd angle with her head, shoulders, and forearms stuck in the belly of a massive console, Pixie didn't hear Morpheus coming up to the Core. Actually, she didn't hear much of anything besides all of the noise she seemed to be generating in an effort to quell the banging created by a loose flap of bent-out-of-shape metal that didn't seem to want to do as she wanted and straighten out. No matter how much banging, bending, and talking she subjected it to.

"Pix, come out here. I think Morpheus is coming up," Mouse called from someplace over her head, "and he's bringing Neo up with him."

"No way," Pixie mumbled, pulling her head out of the belly of the machine she'd been working in so quickly that she hit her head as she tried to get free.

Rubbing the bump that was developing on the top of her head, Pixie extracted herself from the space between the two machines just in time to hear Morpheus introduce Neo to the rest of his crew. She knew she looked more than a little askew but that couldn't be helped considering what she'd been doing.

The young woman felt more than a little silly, though, since she was standing without shoes on. Pixie felt that might have been borderline disrespectful but there wasn't enough time to get her boots on anyway. She'd just have to stand there as she was…that included her lack of footwear."The little ones behind you are Mouse and Pixie," Morpheus informed the goggle eyed Neo.Pixie gave Neo a small smile, trying to appear friendly. She assumed from the way he was looking at everything around him that this was making absolutely no sense to him. He wasn't going to remember any of this later on. It was all a wash of names and faces and new information.

She remembered feeling that way when she'd been freed though she figured it probably was worse for Neo. He was older, after all, and his mind had been more dependent on the Matrix. At least, that's what everyone assumed anyway. Pixie figured that, whether or not that was true, it still must have been hard for Neo. He was use to the world being one way and now that way was being turned on its ears. That had to be disconcerting to say the least.The look of wide eyed confusion rapidly changed as Neo found himself being strapped down into one of the hanging chairs in the Core. From confusion, his face showed abject fear. Fear of the unknown, maybe, or of the strange thing being plugged into the back of his head or a combination of both. Pixie wasn't entirely sure.

"This isn't going to end well," Pixie mentally mused, not talking about her fears out loud.

She figured that she might not have been the only one thinking that though as she watched Dozer jack Morpheus into the Construct. Everyone might have been thinking it but no one was saying a word. An uncomfortable silence had filled the Core as all eyes were on Morpheus and Neo in the Construct….watching, waiting, expecting, something to happen. Some sign in the false space of the Construct to show them all the truth about whether or not Neo was actually the One.


	12. Movies

AN: Heya everyone! Sorry this update is a bit later than usual but I have a perfectly good reason why this update is late…really! Since my class is on Tuesdays, I figure it would better to update this misadventure when I don't have to worry about going to bed before 4AM. That's why this update was sort of late…I apologize for that fact! I also apologize if my chapters seem a bit short as of late. That's mostly the result of me trying to update and get to bed before 4AM. Even though it's graduate school, I figure it wouldn't be all that polite to fall asleep in the middle of lecture. Besides, you never know when you might need something that's being said for your own presentation. That's how my classes usually work. We all wind up in front of the room presenting some journal article that we're assigned or that we pick on a certain topic. When the article is assigned, it usually builds on an article presented earlier in the class. That's why I figure it's important to pay attention. That way, when I have to present (and I'm not the biggest fan of getting up in front of the room to speak) I won't get caught by any trick questions. Anywho, enough about school! A great big "thank you" to everyone who's still reading this little misadventure. You're the best! To everyone who's left me a review…I really appreciate them! You guys rock and, please, keep them coming.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"At slow speed we all seem focused  
In motion we seem wrong…" (from "Movies" by Alien Ant Farm)

Pixie wasn't entirely sure what to think of Neo after that first day. His reaction to the truth could only be described as "violent" to say the least. He wound up blacking out and requiring additional treatment to get himself back up to par again. Well maybe not par but close enough to it. Maybe, instead of "par," "functional" would have been better word. Though that made him sound rather mechanical and Pixie figured that using machine-like words probably wasn't the best thing to do, given the circumstances.

The strange thing was, as Pixie crawled around in the ship's duct work that the whole "adventure," so to speak, with Neo was the last thing she remembered about that day. Sure it was interesting and rather intense- more intense than she'd ever figured it would be- day but there was something else too. Something she'd come to realize, though, now that she thought of it, it was rather obvious.

**_Flashback_**

"That went well," commented Cypher, breaking the silence that lay over the _Nebuchadnezzar_'s Core like some sort of blanket made of steel.

It was one of those oppressive silences that everyone was afraid to break. No one wanted to be the first person to destroy the heavy silence that lay over the space. Pixie wasn't entirely she why the others weren't speaking but she knew why she wasn't saying anything. She was still trying to process what she'd seen. Pixie understood what she'd seen, of course, but her brain was having trouble processing it for some reason.

Maybe it was because that was an unexpected sort of response. That and part of her was trying to figure out just what Neo had vomited. Technically speaking, there was supposed to be nothing in his stomach.

"You can say that again. Some One he is," added Hawk, sporting a rather malicious looking grin.He elbowed Mouse in the ribs, trying to get him to laugh along with him.

The programmer managed to look both angry and baffled at the same time. The anger Pixie figured was directed towards Hawk and the confusion towards the situation with Neo. After all, Mouse had said that he believed that Neo was the One and he didn't exactly seem like the One now. He just seemed rather…ordinary…if anything.

"What's your medical opinion on this mess, Pix?" Hawk shouted in Pixie's general direction, "Can the One freak out and puke his guts up all over the floor?"

"Considering I've never treated anyone who could possibly be the One before, I couldn't really say," Pixie, dryly, replied, "It's not exactly like it's something I can look up either. Sorry about that."

Wearing something akin to the smile Wheeler, once upon a time, had said made her look like her mythological namesake, Pixie added, "Plus I heard you looked worse when you came out. As a matter of fact, I heard all about it in vivid detail."

Hawk blanched, not wanting what he thought was his one moment of weakness ever talked about. He was about ask Pixie how she had heard about that more than a little embarrassing event when she hadn't even been unplugged at the time when something like a snigger caught his attention. He turned to see Switch whispering something to Apoc.

"All of you are conspiring against me," he stated, turning to face his crewmates, "That's just not very nice. Not very teamworkish of you guys."

"I'm not conspiring against anybody," Pixie protested, putting her hands on her hips, "I asked, they told. Simple as that. I just wanted to know if what happened to me was typical for someone being unplugged."

As she made her way down to the ship's medical bay on Dozer's orders to prepare the room for when he and Morpheus got Neo down there, her feet following a route so familiar that she didn't have to think about it anymore, Pixie began to consider Hawk's claim of her conspiring against him.

As a rule, she never listened to people like Hawk. They weren't worth the time or the effort. Generally, they provided nothing more then aggravation when listened to. They were the cause of many headaches; at least that's what Aisling always said.

Still Pixie had started to listen to Hawk for one reason and one reason only; her once "friend" had decided to try and interject himself into every aspect of her life. He was making a consorted effort to talk to her and to find excuses to work next to her. Whenever they passed in the tight hallways, he made sure to physically touch her in some way. That had been the worst, making her feel the need to scrub her skin every time he did so.

It had only escalated from there. The more Hawk tried to do, the more uncomfortable Pixie found herself getting. That probably wasn't a good thing, her being uncomfortable in the place where she worked, since the ship was such a small space. It wasn't exactly easy to find a place to be left alone, all things considered.

Hawk had started asking if he could train with her, under the pretense that he could teach her a thing or two about fighting. After all, as Hawk was so fond of pointing out, he was one of the best "pure fighters" on the craft. In his own mind he was, anyway. It probably wasn't the actual truth, considering who they worked with.

The young woman didn't think Hawk could anyway, considering she knew a few things that he didn't. Pixie didn't exactly have the most amazing tricks up her sleeves but they were still her tricks. They'd kept her alive thus far and that was good enough for her.

Morpheus, much to his young medic's confusion, had agreed to the training. He had said it had something to do with building trust among his crew members.

Pixie made only one request from her captain, when it came to training with Hawk. She wanted someone else in the training program with them as an overseer of sorts. Hawk had a penchant for using "creative weaponry" and she didn't want to be on the receiving end of that again. Much to her surprise, Morpheus had agreed to her little stipulation.

Still, Hawk's always wanting to be around her, always trying to get involved in things where she was involved made her a bit nervous. His being nice, even if it was just an outward attempt at it, to her was off putting to say the least.

Either way, all of the thoughts of Hawk and his rather odd behavior were put out of her head once she reached the ship's medical bay. There were other things on her mind now, other things she had to recall in order to get things started.

After all, the One or not, Pixie still had to treat him. That was the only fair thing to do

_**End Flashback**_

As she crawled along a duct that terminated near the entrance to her own room, still trying to puzzle out the reasoning behind Hawk's strange behavior, she heard a noise. Well a noise other than the ones she was making as she shimmed along the duct working. As opposed to the banging and clanging sounds she was making, this sounded more like someone walking along the length of the corridor with his or her boots dragging behind them.

The footsteps continued to trudge- since that was the best word Pixie could think of for how heavy the footsteps sounded- down the hallway, stopping almost exactly under her. Pixie was almost sure she knew why the footsteps had stopped where they did, too.

"Don't touch my…" Pixie began, issuing a warning to the person underneath her and sticking her head out of the duct she'd been crawling in.

As was her want, Pixie had taken her boots off to work in the duct's confined space. They tended to be a hindrance but there was one small issue with her taking them off and leaving them in random place. It seemed that whenever she took her boots off and had no one to keep an eye on them, they would disappear for a few hours---or until she discovered who took them.

Peeking out further from her overhead perch she noticed that the person staring at the random pair of boots sitting in the hallway was a very exhausted looking Neo. Pixie's face colored red as she realized that her little admonishment had spooked the older male. He was staring up at her with wide eyed confusion.

"I'm sorry," Pixie mumbled, speaking to the floor just to the left of Neo, "I thought you were someone else. My boots tend to walk off on their own if no one watches them."

Since the bald headed, wide eyed male's awakening, life on the _Nebuchadnezzar_ had started to change. Believer or not, it almost seemed like everyone was taking the time out to watch Neo train, especially after he nearly bested Morpheus on his first day. For a rookie to be able to do that, well, he had to be something special.

That was another one of those days that Pixie found herself recalling more often but for different reasons…sort of anyway. It, again, had to do with Hawk and his wanting to be around her but not really either.

She had been in the mess hall, with most of the crew she worked with, sitting on one of the cold metal counters. Hawk had kept trying to squeeze onto the counter next to her and she kept sliding over so he couldn't. It was a strange sort of game between the two of them. A game Pixie hadn't exactly signed up to play but that didn't seem to matter to anyone. She was going to play whether she liked it or not.

Giving up, Hawk took a seat at the battered table and started to lean back against her legs. Pixie assumed he was hoping she'd allow him to either lean on her legs or allow him to sit between them. There was no lesser of the two evils in this case. Neither option was appealing to her.

Pixie had gently "nudged" Hawk with the toe of her boot, giving him an altogether innocent smile when he turned to face her, rubbing the small of his back. One of those looks that plainly implied the whole "Who me?" question along with its answer of "Couldn't be me."

All in all, it was mealtime as usual on the _Nebuchadnezzar_.

That was, until Mouse burst in and announced, "Morpheus is fighting Neo!"

Decorum disappeared in a heartbeat as everyone rushed out to watch the fight. Pixie had thought she was the last person in the room, her boots getting ready to add to the din growing din. Casting a sidelong glance into the hastily abandoned mess hall, Pixie spotted Hawk just standing there, shaking his head and eating. He didn't seem keen on going to watch. Shrugging and not quite understanding why Hawk wasn't coming along, Pixie jogged out of the near empty room to see what would, later, become the topic of many conversations and controversies on the craft she called home.

Pixie gave Neo the good once over, back in the present and in medic-in-training mode. The older male looked both mentally and physically exhausted, probably from the training and the testing. He looked a bit baffled as well, though that was most likely the result of him still trying to get use to his new world.

"Can you please do me a favor" Pixie requested from her perch above Neo, "and pull the extra pair of socks out of my boots?"

Neo looked momentarily disgusted at the idea of reaching into a dirty, scuffed pair of boots to pull put socks that were in who knew what kind of state. Pixie really didn't blame Neo for the look. It was a weird request after all. Not something someone would, normally, be asked to do.

"I promise they're clean," Pixie pointed out, "I really need them. My feet are freezing up here."

She gave Neo a grateful smile when he handed her the socks. They were longer, thicker, than the two pair she always wore. She had "borrowed" them from Torrent, with Rain's permission of course, some time ago. He watched, with the same wide eyed stare she recalled Eurisko having, as she wriggled around until she found herself in a position where she could reach her feet. As she did, one of the sleeves of her sweater caught on a bolt jutting up from a section of pipe.

"You have?" Neo asked, sounding slightly stunned.

"I have what?" Pixie questioned, hoping that her repair work was over for the moment and swinging out of the duct only to come to land on the catwalk below.

Standing on the ground in front of Neo- realizing that, without her boots on, he was taller than she was- she noticed the huge tear in her sleeve. A tear that showed a length of her pale skinned arm and was probably won during her trek through the ducts. It hit Pixie what Neo was goggling at and what his question was referring to.

"I have plugs," she stated in a matter of fact tone, "Why does that surprise you?"

"I figured you were born here like Tank and Dozer but, then again, I saw someone who looked exactly like you twice before and it wasn't here on the ship," Neo commented, sounding as confused as he looked.

Pixie giggled like a school girl as she began to tug her boots on. She hadn't figured that he would remember seeing her not once but twice in the Matrix. The young woman guessed her attempts at being stealthy hadn't exactly paid off.

"I'm from the Matrix, just like you. I have all the plugs to prove it," she said, brushing her waist length braid aside to show Neo the jack at the base of her skull, "I can go into the Matrix just like everyone else here."

To Pixie's total and utter wonderment, Neo managed to look even more confused. Neo had assumed that Pixie had to be the youngest person on the ship and youngest by a lot. The little girl- or, at least what he'd thought was a little girl- sitting on the floor buckling his boots in front of him had to be older than he'd first guessed.

"How old are you?" Neo wanted to know.

"Nineteen," the young woman replied with what she thought was friendly sort of a smile, "I'm Pixie by the way, just in case you didn't get my name yet."

"Nineteen? You're just a kid," Neo blurted, all the while thinking that he was dealing with someone a bit younger than that, "Isn't that dangerous for a kid like you?"

"I've been going in and out of the Matrix for about a year now," Pixie informed Neo, "Ever since I was assigned to the _Nebuchadnezzar_ and I finished my training. The machines don't care that I'm not even legally old enough to drink in the Matrix. Different story here but anyway...I'm human; I'm free. Makes me a nineteen year old threat."

"How old were you when you were...um...freed?" Neo asked, sounding unsure of the words he was using.

Pixie gave a dangerously childlike giggle and said, "I'd just turned fifteen years old."

Neo looked at Pixie with shock evident on his face. He had been told, by Morpheus, that he was older than most newly unplugged but the ripe old age of nearly fifteen seemed a little too young. If she wasn't joking with him, Pixie could, technically, be his daughter. That was definitely a creepy feeling. To think that a little girl- he'd have to start finding another moniker for her- who could be his daughter was, technically speaking, older than he was in Zion years and had a rather dangerous sounding job.

"You worked someplace else before getting assigned here?" Neo questioned, wondering how useful a fifteen year old could be.

Thinking back, Neo decided that he couldn't have been a very useful fifteen year old. He'd just been one of those awkward sort of high school students who tried to be cool but wasn't very good at it. That was probably why he liked computers so much. They didn't exactly care if you were "cool" or not.

"Nope," Pixie answered, pulling her tools out of the duct lest they rust in there, "Lived in Zion and got adopted. Come on. I'll walk you back to your room, you look kind of lost."

The pair walked along quietly for a handful of moments before Pixie started to talk again. That was unusual since Pixie didn't exactly like talking. Still she felt badly about walking with Neo in silence. Something had to fill the space between them and words were the only thing that came to Pixie's mind.

"You have it easy, you know. Everything's downhill for your guys after unplugging. For us girls it's a different story," Pixie explained, picking the first random thing she could think of to talk about.

"What do you mean?" Neo wanted to know.

Considering everything that had happened to him since his unplugging, he wasn't exactly sure he wanted to agree with Pixie. It seemed to him that everything was most defiantly going uphill for him. Still, this girl- young woman. Neo made sure to correct himself. -knew this world better than he did. She might, actually, have a point, one of those points he had yet to see.

"I'm not talking about training and stuff, you only get that when you work on a ship.If you're a guy,once you're awake, you're rebuilding's done with. If you're a girl, it's a different story. We're not done our rebuilding for about eight or nine months afterwards. Some of us maybe more but that depends on the person," Pixie answered.

Spying the baffled but interested look on Neo's face, she continued, "When you guys, and I mean that literally, are unplugged, all your systems are in good working order. I mean all of them, even the ones you're not thinking about right now. Not so for us. We have to be given hormone shots in order to get our reproductive systems working. Some of the Science Council people think that the Machines shut them down on purpose…"

"Can I ask you an off-topic question?" Neo cut in, getting more confused by the moment.

What he did understand was that Pixie was rather smart and had embraced her position as the ship's medic-in-training, which translated into "intern" of some type to Neo, whole heartedly. She definitely wasn't like the teenagers he'd seen in the Matrix.

"You already did but you can ask me another one," Pixie countered with a slight smile.

"Was it you at Metacortex and at the club?" he asked.

Pixie nodded sheepishly and admitted, "That was me both times. I was posing as a high schooler at your office because Morpheus wanted me to check into something. Even though Tank has all the schematics. I was at the club acting as a look-out and guard. You know about the agents, right?"

Neo shook his head, letting Pixie know he had yet to run through the infamous "Agent Training" program. Infamous only because it was rumored that Mouse had rewritten the program for Morpheus. No matter what the program looked like, Pixie still wasn't fond of it. The metal image of an Agent leveling a weapon at her was something that still haunted her nightmares.

"You'll probably do it soon. It's one of those really weird ones where you don't get beat up," Pixie explained, "Here's your stop!"

After bidding Neo a good night, Pixie headed back towards her room. She considered for all of a moment wandering over to the Core instead and checking out where the _Shatterpoint_ was. Talking to Wheeler, she figured, might help her understand what was going on with Hawk.

Pixie decided against it, though, opting to head back to her room and a puzzle on her handheld computer. Wheeler and Hawk had never got along and if mentioned how Hawk was acting, Wheeler might do something rash when next they met and Pixie didn't want Wheeler to get in trouble for her. No, she wouldn't mention it and just hope things blew over.

That was the best course of actions she decided…for now anyway.


	13. Trouble

AN: Hey everyone! Fall's in the air- it's not quite here yet but, in NYC, we're starting to get more fall-like days- and September baseball has started. It's time again for that big rush towards the post-season. Apparently, my team of choice, the NY Mets, feels confident about their chances this year because my sister, my mom, and I have already ordered our post-season ticket packs. That just seems crazy to me since it's not a guaranteed thing that the Mets will even make it that far this year. I mean, they're in first place in our division (the National League East) but they've been known to find spectacular ways to lose! At least, if they don't make it to the World Series or, even, past the division series the cash gets carried over to our tickets for next season. Yeah, I'll probably have tickets for next season too. My sister is an extreme baseball fan…she loves nothing more than to go to baseball games. Baseball she can deal with but not anything science fiction or fantasy related. She's not exactly a fan of _The Matrix_ to say the least! Says the movies are a waste of time and are too confusing for her. Then again, she didn't like her college philosophy classes either. Anyway…thanks to everyone out there who's still reading this sometimes confusing misadventure. I'm glad you've stuck by my little tale. For anyone who's reviewed…you're awesome! Thanks a whole bunch!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Uh-Oh, We're In Trouble, Something's Come Along

And It's Burst Our Bubble

Yeah, Yeah!

Uh-Oh, We're In Trouble…" (From "Trouble" by Shampoo)

"_Shatterpoint_ to the _Nebuchadnezzar_. Come in_Nebuchadnezzar_. Where are you?" questioned a commanding voice over the headset Pixie had hanging around her neck instead of sitting on her head where it normally belonged.

Pixie, who had been manning the communications board for the day since all her training sessions had been cancelled, pulled on the headset and replied, "_Shatterpoint_ this is the _Nebuchadnezzar_. Sorry about the delay. To whom am I speaking?"

The board was a secondary way to communicate ship to ship. All calls, so to speak, were routed through the Operator's console. If the Operator was…indisposed…then the calls were routed through a secondary board nestled in a corner of the ship. Generally, it was thought that the other board was used in emergencies only.

There was no emergency at the moment but, still, Pixie found herself staring at the smaller screens and wearing the headset. Tank was busy operating for Neo and Morpheus- More training, Pixie supposed- so the young woman was given the task of playing secondary Operator. The job was thought to be boring since it seemed to only involve staring at screens but Pixie didn't really mind it.

Watching the people in the Matrix, even if it made her feel like a strange sort of spy, going about their daily business was interesting to her. The occasional call from other ships, however, was not something she enjoyed. Pixie always wound up getting flustered and tongue tied.

Neither seemed to be good things when dealing with people she didn't know. It wasn't exactly the best way to make a first impression or act in a professional manner. Still, it was part of the job and, besides, it was a good thing for her to have to deal with such calls. Maybe it would help her get over her shyness or something like that. It hadn't exactly worked but Pixie still held out the vague hope that it might.

"This is Depa, Mace's first mate. With whom am I speaking?" asked the woman on the other end of the headset as Pixie' screen flickered from an image of the Matrix to the inside of the other craft.

Pixie ran through the list of names in her head. She knew the crew of the _Shatterpoint _reasonable well, if only by name and reputation instead of by face. It paid to have friends spread out across the fleet. That way she knew the identities of people on several different ships, again if only by name and reputation. Maybe a vague description was thrown in but Pixie remembered reading someplace for one of her Academy classes that four people could look at the same person and give four totally different descriptions. Pixie figured it was safer just to deal with names and reputations.

"Pixie, just a medic-in-training on the ship," the young woman replied in a careful, measured voice, "Does you ship need assistance?"

"Can I speak with your captain or his first mate?" Depa questioned, her own tone far more commanding than the careful one Pixie was using.

The young woman had never, really, been able to master that whole "firm voice" concept. Not yet, anyway. Acting tough, sounding tough was something that Pixie had never really been able to accomplish. She wasn't entirely sure why but she knew it wasn't for lack of trying.

She'd taken to trying to mimic the tough attitudes of those she worked around- mostly Trinity and Switch because they were female like her and Morpheus didn't exactly exude "tough." No, the dark skinned captain exuded more "power" than "tough."- with little success. Now and again, Pixie would have a moment where she came off as tough but those were few and far between.

Pixie was Pixie, as her friends back in Zion liked to point out, and there were no two ways about it. She was just how she was and there seemed to be no changing that. Try as she might, anyway.

There was one person among her friends, a certain individual who'd been invading her thoughts more and more lately that said there was nothing about her that had to be changed. Said that she was perfect just the way she was. Ironically, he was also from the _Shatterpoint_.

Shaking herself out of her reverie, Pixie turned her attention to more immediate matters. Namely, giving Depa an answer to her query.

Hawk was most likely lurking someplace on the ship, probably doing something that would get him in trouble later. Knowing Hawk, Cypher was probably involved in his scheme or it might have been the other way around- Hawk being involved in some scheme of Cypher's. Pixie wasn't entirely sure of which. The two of them had become thicker than thieves lately. They were always sitting together, speaking in hushed tones. Their conversations would stop whenever someone passed by them, making it seem just a bit suspicious.

Then again, Pixie might have been over thinking the whole thing. It might have been absolutely nothing. Nothing more than the two of them being slimy, greasy, snake oil salesmen.

Dozer was, most likely, flying the _Nebuchadnezzar_ since that seemed to be his secondary role on the ship, after on-board medic. On more than one occasion Pixie had seen Dozer tuck the monster of a craft that was the _Nebuchadnezzar _in sometight corner without putting so much as a scratch on the craft. She, herself, knew how to fly the craft but it wasn't something Pixie often had a chance to do. There were, after all, more qualified people for the job.

Apoc and Switch, well, Pixie could think of several places the two of them could have wandered off to. Her face turning a bright shade of crimson at the mere thought of what they could be off doing, Pixie decided that they were- they had to be- doing repairs someplace. Yeah, that was it. They were doing repairs someplace.

Mouse was most likely in the Core, on the pretense of having to do something computer related. Whatever work he said he had, if it existed in the first place, was most likely forgotten as he watched Neo train. Mouse was enamored with Neo in a hero worship sort of way, going so far as to try and watch him train and then mimic Neo's actions in the Construct.

If Neo was training, then…

"I'm sorry, both Morpheus and Trinity are busy at the moment. Is there anything I can do to help?" Pixie offered.

"Let me speak to my captain," Depa, coolly, stated, giving Pixie the impression that talking to her- just a lowly medic-in-training- was thought to be some sort of waste of her time and energy.

Depa stood and trotted out of the room, giving Pixie a view being of an empty room. Worry began to take root in the pit of her stomach as she tried to figure out just what was going on. They could have run into some kind of trouble either here or in the Matrix and they might need a bail out. The _Shatterpoint_ was stranded and needed a rescue. Someone on the _Shatterpoint_'s crew was badly injured or worse and they needed help.

Every image she managed to come up with was worse than the one before it, her imagination acting at double speed as it tried to decipher the reason for the communication from the _Shatterpoint_. Surprisingly- though it might not have been to someone else- every scenario involved Wheeler in some capacity.

Her mind was so busy driving her out of it with its imagined scenarios that Pixie failed to notice the change on the screens before her. She failed to see that the image of the empty, plain room- Almost a mirror's image of the room she was in at the moment- had changed to something else. Well, not really changed but was altered slightly.

"Hey, Pix, wake up and pay attention. Where's your mind? It's not like you not to notice things when you're in work mode," pointed out the new figure whose face was filling the screen on the _Nebuchadnezzar_.

Reverie broken, she looked up to see a fuzzy but familiar face on the screen. Somehow, in some strange way, Wheeler had wound in the seat that Depa had just been filling. Pixie released a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. Just seeing Wheeler alive and well made her feel better. Sure, the _Shatterpoint_ might still be in some kind of danger but, at least, Wheeler was alive. That just made her feel better for some reason.

The reason Pixie came up with was quite the simple one. Wheeler was her friend, her closet friend but still her friend and she cared about what happened to her friends. Much in the same way she hoped they were concerned about her and her well being. After the horror show her imagination decided to create, it just made Pixie feel a whole lot happier to see Wheeler alive, well, and in one piece.

"Wheeler?" the young woman blurted, sounding extremely surprised to see the scruffy looking young man, "What are you doing on here? What happened to Depa? It's not that I'm not glad to see you, though."

"She went to go talk to Mace," Wheeler answered with a shrug, "I saw the room opened and I saw who Depa was talking to. I haven't talked to you in like forever so I decided to come and talk to you."

Though she was wearing a smile- Wheeler seemed to have an uncanny ability to make Pixie smile and giggle like a schoolgirl- Pixie pointed out, "What if you get in trouble for sneaking in here. It sounded like Depa had something really important to say to Morpheus or Trinity."

Lowering her voice an octave or two, though it wasn't necessary because she was speaking directly into Wheeler's headset and her voice was low to begin with, "I don't think she was all that keen on talking to me. I'm lowly medic-in-training, after all."

Wheeler gave Pixie a look that let her know he thought she was being silly. It was a look that Wheeler often gave her, actually. It was like a silent admonishment that let her know what he was thinking. Pixie thought that she should be offended that he gave her such looks but she knew that she could be silly like that sometimes. Sometimes she could be just a bit…paranoid…about things.

Besides, she knew Wheeler meant well. It wasn't like he was giving such looks because he wanted to be mean or anything. Pixie knew that Wheeler had a thing about being mean to girls. He said he couldn't be mean because that wasn't the way he was raised. He said he'd been raised- false or not because it was the Matrix, Wheeler knew how he'd been raised impacted him even now- to treat all females with respect. Pixie, being female, was included in that group.

"Depa had to go all the way to the cockpit to talk to Mace so she'll be gone for a while. Besides, I'm doing the responsible thing by taking over for her. What if you thought she abandoned the line and closed the connection?" Wheeler pointed out.

Turning red, though Pixie couldn't see it because the screens showed only black and white, the once pitcher added, "Not that you would do something like that. You're far too responsible to just close the line."

Pixie giggled and Wheeler offered a shrug in response. There wasn't really anything else to say about that. If there was, neither of them could think of it. The silence that started to fill the vast space between them was a comfortable one. The sort of silence that could develop between people who'd known each other for a long time. A silence where it was just friendly, comfortable space where two people could just sit and spend time together without needing words.

"Why are you on the emergency board anyway?" Wheeler asked, "You guys are alright, right?"

"The Core's being used for other things…" Pixie explained not sure if she was supposed to go into any amount of details about what was going on, "The captain wanted to be sure that we were still open for communications, though. That's how come I'm sitting here."

Giving Wheeler an odd look, she added, "Besides, you got in contact with us. Are you guys alright?"

Looking around the room, staring at the walls, Wheeler stated, "We're fine last I checked. Deadbolt wants a message or something passed along to Morpheus and we just happened to run into you guys first."

Since it was Wheeler and not someone else, Pixie didn't bother to hide the frown that slipped onto her face. Her dislike for Jason Lock was legendary among her friends. Not that any of them blamed her for it. After all, he'd almost cost her the job she had. He was the person who'd decided that she was "too young" because of an odd birth date to work on a ship. Thankfully, someone had intervened and she had a job that she loved.

Maybe it was fate but Morpheus wasn't exactly Jason Lock's favorite captain either. Something about Morpheus going against Lock's orders time and time again.

"Where is your captain anyway?" Wheeler asked, curiously.

For a few beats there was silence. Pixie wasn't sure what she was supposed to say to Wheeler or to anyone else for that matter. She didn't know if Neo was some big secret or common knowledge to the fleet. Pixie was leaning towards "secret" though because they weren't being hassled by crews who believed or didn't in the whole idea of the One.

"I think Morpheus is in the Construct. He's training N...new guy on the ship," she said, sputtering over her words as she almost let the secret out.

"A new guy?" Wheeler asked, sounding extremely interested, "What's he like? He interesting?"

Pixie figured that Wheeler would sound interested even if she was telling him about how she sewed a hood onto her sweater. She wanted to tell Wheeler all about Neo, how Morpheus thought he was the One and how his training was showing him to have some interesting skills. Everything that had happened on her floating home was threatening to come out of her head in a jumble of words.

Still she figured that Morpheus was trying to keep Neo's identity under wraps so Pixie knew she couldn't say anything. All of the rather interesting things she'd seen while watching Neo train- Interesting in the fact he was breaking every scientific paradigm she could think of and not in the fact that he was "the One"- would have to wait for another day.

The young woman felt badly, though, about having to lie to Wheeler in such a blatant way. It almost felt like she was about to break a trust between them…an unspoken vow to be truthful to each other, no matter what. She wasn't aware that either of them had ever made such a vow but, since they were better than best friends, Pixie felt it wasn't right to lie to him.

"He's this guy Morpheus was really keen on unplugging. Since he's older, he's probably going to go straight to work on the ship," Pixie explained, trying to be vague about things, "Maybe this ship but I don't think that's up to Morpheus to decide."

Pixie watched, head cocked to one side, as a strange look crossed over Wheeler's face. She wanted to say it was one of concern but that wasn't exactly right. There was some concern there, true, but there was something else as well. Something that might have translated as jealousy but Pixie couldn't be entirely sure.

Whatever it was- be it jealousy or something else mixed in with concern- passed over Wheeler's face in an instant. It was replaced with an almost pensive look as the scruffy looking young man studied something on the console before him. Whatever he saw was enough to make him look almost afraid.

"I'm sorry to cut and run but I have to shut down. We've got Sentinels coming in quick,"Wheeler blurted, as his hands started flying over the console before him, "I'll talk to you soon."

Another look down caused Wheeler to mumble a few uncharacteristic curses and add, "Pix, it looks like a few of them broke off and are headed towards you."

"Understood, _Nebuchadnezzar_ out," she said, not bothering to wait for Wheeler to sign off.

Headset left on the console and most of the running machinery on it hastily switched off, Pixie darted towards the Core. Her boots banged against the hard metal, making a racket that echoed throughout the narrow halls of the _Nebuchadnezzar_. The ship had to be shut down, and shut down quickly if sentinels were on their way. She hoped that Wheeler was doing the same on his ship, keeping those on the _Shatterpoint_ safe from a most painful death.

Climbing like a monkey, Pixie appeared in the _Nebuchadnezzar_'s Core in record time. Such was her rush to get to Tank to tell him what she'd learned that Pixie tripped over her own booted feet. She hit the ground hard, despite the fact she was bracing herself with her hands. Said hands were already cut up and bruising even as she got to her feet."Just got off the line with Mace's _Shatterpoint_ they said Sentinels are headed this way," the medic-in-training blurted her tone almost breathless.

Pixie wasn't one to joke about things like that, unlike some who found "crying wolf," so to speak funny. If she said that she heard Squiddies were headed in their direction, then it was probably true that they were. Before Pixie could even offer her help, though she wasn't quite sure what she could do to help, the Core became a veritable hive of activity. The few individuals in the space started moving with more than a purpose, if that was at all possible.

Tank, who had been sitting at his "usual" seat, operating a training session for Morpheus and Neo, began to make a call into the Construct. Though she wasn't in the Construct, Pixie knew what the phone call would entail. Tank would apprise Morpheus of the situation and end the program.

Mouse, who, as predicted, was standing around watching Neo train instead of doing his own work, mumbled something and split from the room. Pixie wasn't sure where he had gone. She had a sinking suspicion that it was for a blanket or something, though. That, actually, sounded like a good idea all things considered. It was going to get very cold on the ship soon, even if it was only for a few minutes, and anything to stave off the cold was a good thing.

Someone, she wasn't sure who because they'd breezed right by her, had gone to tell Dozer. The older medic was piloting the ship and was not in the Core to hear her shouted- well, shouted for Pixie- announcement.

"Pix," Tank called, over his shoulder, "Go help Trinity with Neo and Morpheus. Alright?"

Pixie nodded her head, glad to have something to do instead of standing around being nervous. Trinity might not have needed help but she got help anyway. Maybe it was a good thing, Pixie decided, since the faster they could get the ship shut down, the safer things were.

It seemed like only a few moments before the young woman felt the ship shudder and sputter to a stop as Dozer-or maybe it was Morpheus, Pixie wasn't sure since she was in the Nebuchadnezzar's Core-grounded the large ship. The lack of windows in the room prevented Pixie from knowing just where they were. Not like that would have made a difference anyway. The sewers were just countless, endless miles of grey and black, stone and metal.

As the power on the ship was shut down, preventing the killing machines from getting a read on the ship's heat signature, first the lights then the heat powered down. Pixie suppressed a shiver, wishing for warm clothes, and tucked her hands into her pockets. It didn't exactly help but it was the best she could do. The long haired young woman just kept reminding herself that it would be over soon…for good or for ill.

"Cold enough for you, Pixie Sticks?" commented Hawk, coming over and looping an arm around Pixie's shoulders, "Maybe you need someone to help you warm up a little?"

Pixie glared at Hawk, shrugging his arm off of her shoulders as the same time. True she was cold but she'd rather deal with the cold than have Hawk anywhere near her. She didn't need his help to escape the chill that was sweeping through the room.

"Sorry to disappoint but I'm doing fine. Thanks for the offer, though," she stated, flashing Hawk a smile that was more smirk than anything else.

Just to be sure he got the point and didn't try anything else; she stepped out of Hawk's reach. As it usually went after Hawk put his hands on her Pixie found herself fighting the urge to pull her sweatshirt off and throw it into the generator just to get rid of the article of clothing. That was counterproductive, though, as she knew she'd just wind up being out one perfectly good sweat shirt. This one didn't have as many holes, pulls, rips, and runs- all repaired by either her or Rain and one could tell the difference in who had done the repairs. Rain was much defter with the sewing needle than her foster daughter. -as some of the others she owned.

It seemed like a lifetime before Tank got the static filled message that it was alright for him to turn the ship's power back on. A sigh of relief seemed to slip out of every person standing around the Core as the threat passed then once again except for Pixie.

The young woman, glad that the ship's meager heat could be turned back on, said a silent prayer to whoever was out there to listen to her for Wheeler and the others on the Shatterpoint. Hopefully, they were alright as well. Only when that was done did Pixie breathe a sigh of relief. Well, a half hearted one anyway. She knew she was going to worry about Wheeler until she heard from him again.

But that's what better than best friends did…right?


	14. BattleCry

An: Heya everyone! I'm not a happy mood at the moment. Actually, "not happy" is probably putting things too mildly. I'm actually really, really angry at the moment. My baseball of team of choice- The NY Mets- are on the verge of blowing their entire season. See, they've been leading the National League East (that's our division) for the entire season. The lead's been slim but it was there. We were on the verge of clinching the National League when we started going on this horrible downward spiral. By "horrible" I mean like blowing their lead to bits and not going to the post-season. I sort of expect them to lose their lead because the Mets are infamous for finding mindboggling ways to lose. They do amazing things in order to blow their leads. The sad thing is that we (my mom, sister, and I) already have tickets for the post-season so if they don't make it the tickets we have are lost. At least the money for the tickets gets transferred to tickets for next year, if we want them, and knowing my sister- who is obsessed with baseball- we actually do. By now, I'm just a little tired of baseball. Don't get me wrong, I like the sport and all but it's starting to drive me nuts! Anyway, off the topic of baseball, and back on the topic of this little misadventure here. Thanks for reading this little misadventure involving someone who could be the One, and a girl with a fairy name (but elfish looks), with the occasional mention of a once baseball player. I hope you're all enjoying the ride and I hope I'm not messing around with the storyline of the movie too much. To everyone who's left me a review…thanks so much! You guys rock! Reviews are still a huge surprise for me and I still get nervous whenever I open one of them.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Oh yes, I have to find my path

No less, walk on earth, water, and fire

The elements compose a magnum opus

My modus is operandi is amalgam…" (From "Battlecry" off of the _Samurai Champloo_ Soundtrack)

It was one of those rare quiet days on the floating sardine can- Well, what the Matrix said was a can that held what the machines said were sardines to be more specific. -called the _Nebuchadnezzar_ when things were quiet. There was no special reason for the quiet day, no holiday or anything that was being celebrated at the moment. It just sort of happened that way as most quiet low key days tended to happen.

Most training sessions had been done early on in the day and repairs on the ship were scarce at the moment. There wasn't much else to do but sit around and try to find something to do to stave off boredom. The craft wasn't exactly the easiest place to find something to do because of its size and the limited number of people on it.

The odd thing was that this day almost felt necessary. Something was in the air that made them all glad for even a single day's reprieve from the stress and fear that was par for the course in their lives. The preverbal storm was brewing and this was just the calm before it. At least that was general consensus around the ship.

Whatever was due to happen in the future, whatever storm this quiet day was paving the way for, didn't really concern Mouse. No, the programmer was sitting in the _Nebuchadnezzar_'s Core, spinning around in the chair usually occupied by Tank. His attention was clearly not on the Matrix, nor was it on the image generators that were, currently, showing grainy black and white and shades of gray images of a pair of individuals.

The programmer was more interested in his immature spinning- Though it was often argued that no one was old enough to have a chair that spun around. No matter how old one was or how mature one fancied him or herself they fell prey to spinning in chairs that had that ability. -and his idle humming of some random Matrix tune. His hand held computer was sitting propped up on one of the keyboards, his latest half created program still on screen. He'd get to work on that later…maybe.

He was so engrossed in his spinning and humming that Mouse failed to hear someone else enter the space. It was fairly hard not to hear that another individual had entered the room. There was, after all, only so much one could do to mask the sound of heavy boots along a grated, metal floor.

"Who's in there?" questioned Neo, coming up from behind Mouse and, very nearly, becoming the cause of him tumbling out of Tank's chair.

Once he got himself together, which took all of a second, Mouse gave Neo what he thought was his most winning smile. The young programmer was half amazed and half in awe of Neo and the fact he could, possibly, be the One. Well, in Mouse's opinion he was already the One. There was no doubt in that claim to him.

"Just Pixie and Hawk," he answered, in a relaxed, conversational voice, "They're doing some sparring I think. Hawk said he had to make sure Pix's skills are up to par or something like that."

He, vaguely, gestured towards one of many small monitors that were showing images of the pair as they sparred. From what Neo could see, having to squint a little to make out the finer details, the pair were circling each other, trying to figure out the best way to attack. Pixie's long braid swung between her shoulders as she moved around the taller figure that was Hawk.

"Are they supposed to be in there?" Neo questioned, looking at Mouse strangely.

The programmer was twisting right to left and back again in the chair he was seated in. The motion managed to be both distracting and nauseating at the same time. Neo wanted to ask Mouse to stop but found himself hypnotized by the almost perpetual motion.

"No one was scheduled to be in there so I guess they're alright," Mouse answered with something like a shrug, "Well, she was in there first and he asked me to put him in there with her. I figured that everything was alright though."

Mouse, probably, would have continued his narrative if not for a second interruption. Another set of boots heralded the entrance of another person. These boots were quieter than Neo's but they weren't exactly silent either. No one could be truly silent when considering boots on metal floors. If there was a way to avoid making any noise, Mouse hadn't figured it out yet.

"Is who suppose to be in where?" Trinity questioned, coming into the Core and peering over Mouse's shoulder.

The question wasn't directed towards anyone in particular. Instead, it hung in the air, hovering in the space between the three individuals like some kind of flying insect. One of those ones that probably existed long ago in the world before the creation of the Matrix.

"Hawk and Pixie," Mouse answered, speaking before Neo could even comprehend the question, "but they have every right to be in there. They're just training, that's all."

"Not by themselves they aren't," Trinity pointed out, stalking over to one of the hanging chairs in the Core and pulling a monitor down.

"Why not?" Neo questioned, wandering over to where Trinity stood and watching for a moment as she punched her data into the touch screen that hung near every chair.

"Long story," Trinity quipped, "But Hawk's a dirty fighter…great in the Matrix but not so good for a training session. Especially the kinds of training sessions that Pixie likes to run when she's alone."

Seemingly taking stock of the still reasonably bald and tentative looking Neo, Trinity added, "This'll be good for you. You're coming too, Neo."

Deciding it was better to just go along rather than cause an argument- Neo wasn't entirely thrilled with the fact that Hawk was a "dirty fighter," whatever that actual implied-Neo pulled down his own touch screened console. His hands moved across the screen punching in things without him actually having to think of it. He guessed that all his training was starting to pay off in some ways. He no longer awkwardly fumbled through the process of getting himself ready to go into the Construct and, probably though he had yet to go into it, the Matrix.

"Are you sure he knows what he's doing?" Neo asked Trinity as Mouse nearly trotted over to where the pair sat.

The young programmer looked entirely too eager to be jacking a pair of individuals into the Construct. For some reason, that eagerness made Neo just a little nervous. If Trinity answered his question, Neo never heard it. His reality turned black- no soft fading to blackness. No, it was like someone turned all of the lights in the universe off, creating a blackness that was absolute and unending- for all of a moment. The blackness, though, was swiftly replaced by a austere Japanese dojo. The space built itself around Neo piece by piece, starting with the support columns that lined the walks and ending with the two young adults that had once been the room's only occupants.

The room was an almost perfect twin to the one he'd used when he sparred with Morpheus for the first time. The walls were made of the same pale wood and rice paper and the ground was made of the same reedy mats. The same weapons, in the same wooden holsters rested on one side of the room across from a rice paper and wood sliding door.

Why the door was there, Neo would never know. It didn't really seem to have a use since everyone sort of appeared in the center of the room. Actually, to be more accurate, this time the center of the room was in use- as Pixie and Hawk were engaged in a rather vicious looking sparring match- so he appeared off to one side.

The only real difference- a small difference, really- was that Pixie and Hawk had music in their sparring program. A bass heavy sort of music that made the floor shake with some of its louder beats. Not exactly the kind of music one would expect to find in such a place.

"Lookie, lookie, we have visitors. They've come to watch you get your rear end kicked, Pixie Sticks," Hawk stated, dancing just out of Pixie's range and giving the girl a smirk.

"I told you not to call me that, Hawk!" Pixie snapped, feigning a strike to the left and catching Hawk off guard with a sweep that took his legs out from underneath him, "It's 'Pixie' or 'Pix.' Honestly!"

Hawk, cursing himself for coming back in range for Pixie to be able to knock him over, glared at Pixie from the ground. With a half-hearted sort of smile, the young woman offered a hand to Hawk so he could pull himself up. That was the sportsman like thing to do, after all. Regardless of the fact they were training and everyone one of them knew they gave no quarter when fighting in the Matrix; Pixie didn't want to be rude.

Still glaring at Pixie, wondering what he did in order to fall into Pixie silly little ploy, the young man knocked her hand aside and pushed himself up. Pixie looked at her hand, studying the offended appendage, and shrugged. There were just some people one couldn't be nice to, she guessed, and Hawk was one of those people.

The pair bowed to each other, one concession to formality, before turning their attention to Neo and Trinity. Pixie took a few steps away from Hawk, her hands going to play with the end of her long braid. She wasn't entirely sure why the two older resistance fighters- and one of them being a commanding officer- were visiting the program she'd inadvertently wound up using. The young woman was almost sure she wasn't doing anything wrong but, still, there was a chance that she'd missed something and, now, she was going to get reprimanded for it.

"What are you two doing?" Trinity asked, surveying the two askew young adults.

Hawk looked flustered, his cheeks a bright pink color and his breathing harsh, as he always did while training. His black and red clothing, tied always with a black belt around the middle, was rumpled and sweat stained. It looked as if he'd gone several rounds with a bigger, angrier person and come out worse for it.

The rumpled and sweaty Hawk drew a sharp contrast to the young woman standing next to him. With her white on white training outfit- tied with a white belt for reasons only known to Pixie and, because of that, not shared- and the long plait in her hair, she looked far neater than Hawk. Her clothing was rumpled in places and her hair was starting to come loose from its normal braid but she didn't look as messy as Hawk. Compared to Hawk, Pixie looked downright neat and clean.

"Just getting some training in. Thought it would be a good thing to check up on Pixie Stick's skills and wipe the simulation with her skinny rear end," Hawk answered, speaking for both him and Pixie.

Pixie wanted to say something about Hawk mentioning her rear end- something along the lines of him not having permission to even look at her rear- but she settled for shaking her head and shifting her weight from foot to foot. Nervous in general, being under the scrutiny of Trinity and Neo was making her even more nervous. She was trying to stand still and put up a mature sort of front but it wasn't working. The "what ifs" in her mind were dancing alongside the many theories as to why Trinity and Neo had shown up making that nearly impossible.

"I'm sure you were," Trinity, dryly, commented, "Whose brilliant idea was this to begin with?"

"His," Pixie spoke up, "I was training in my own program when he showed up. Mouse switched the programs so quickly that I didn't even have time to ask what he was doing there let along tell him to leave me alone."

"Snitch," hissed Hawk through gritted teeth.

He shot daggers at Pixie, his eyes narrowing to nothing more than slits. He looked more reptile- like a snake, actually- than avian. The young woman tried not to laugh at the thought of Hawk's misnomer of a name. He should have been "Snake" or "Lizard" instead of "Hawk," really. Though that would have made the terrible looking tattoo- the image now on the back of the jacket he was currently wearing- on his shoulder pointless.

That tattoo still made Pixie shudder every time she looked at it. There was a part of her mind that had come to the conclusion that there was something symbolic about the fact the hawk on Hawk's shoulder was capturing a rabbit in its terrible, pointed talons. Once upon a time, she'd been "Rabbit" and had even toyed with the idea of making that her hacker's name.

It was a good thing she didn't, Pixie guessed. Not just because of Hawk's tattoo but because she felt more "Pixie" than "Rabbit."

Pixie gave Hawk a small shrug, not bothering to give him a verabal answer. There was no need to justify herself and her actions to Hawk, Pixie decided. It was her decision to point out that he'd come bothering her and not that she'd gone into a sparring program with Hawk willingly. There was a long standing rule on the ship that the two of them were not to be in sparring programs without someone watching them train.

Not because they weren't to be trusted or prone to fooling around in programs. No, it more Hawk's penchant for using "creatively weaponry" even in spars that had caused that rule to be set up. That and the fact, once upon a time, he'd cheated and knocked Pixie upside the head with wooden slats from the floor.

"But wouldn't those programs be too easy for you guys? How does that work" Neo asked, sounding more than a little confused.

In his short time in the Real World, the only training programs Neo had run across that required only one person to run through were the most basic of the training programs. Everything else looked to require a partner to either work with or against, depending on the program. It didn't make any sense, to him at least, that everyone had a basic program to work alone in.

"It's not what you think," Trinity explained, "Everyone has at least one program they can use alone to relax or blow off some steam or both, if that helps you relax. Pixie's program can be used by two people though."

Hawk made a face and threw in, "Her program is boring. There's not enough action in it and I'm a man of action. All she has are these puzzles with like ninjas thrown in between them. Come on, seriously, who wants to solve puzzles for fun?"

Neo's eyes fell on Pixie, whose face turned a bright shade of red at the attention. There was something about puzzles that Pixie just liked. It was one of those long standing facts about her, actually. Something her friends in Zion were well aware of.

"You can come visit my program next time I'm in it," Pixie, lamely, offered, "it's really a whole lot of fun. Even if you're not into solving puzzles and things like that."

"I've run through the program with her," Trinity added, "It's not as bad as Hawk is making it seem. Thinking fast and being able to work through situations is critical when in the Matrix. It's actually a very useful program."

Still glaring daggers, Hawk, in his whiniest voice, stated, "Look, I came in here to train and not to talk about Pixie Stick's obsession with puzzles and that boring puzzle program she has. Training's just as important as being able to solve puzzles and think fast."

His glare morphing into a smirk, the young man added, "Besides, someone's got to teach this little lady right here how to fight."

Hawk went to loop an arm around Pixie's shoulders but, as he did so, she grabbed his arm and flipped him to the ground. Her "attack" on Hawk had been warranted, though. It wasn't something she did out of the blue because she was feeling particularly malicious or something to that effect.

Pixie had spent a good deal of their time in the sparring program that he was to refer to her as Pixie and Pixie only, to stop thinking he knew more than she, and to stop insisting she neededhis help. He still persisted on bothering her by doing those three things.

"Again, I am not your little lady and I know how to fight, Pixie reminded Hawk, "I wiped the floor with you many, many times. Unlike you, I was trained well."

She reached her hand down, once again, to help Hawk up but he, again, refused. Again her handed was swatted away and again she shrugged. You couldn't help a person who didn't want any help. She went back to shifting her weight from foot to foot and fiddling with the end of her braid.

"Who trained her?" Neo wanted to know, slightly disconcerted at how Pixie had gone from extremely intense back to her normal nervous self in a matter of moments.

"That would be me," Trinity replied, "Small bet between Cypher and I. I'll tell you about it sometime."

"Mouse, get me out of her. All these losers want to do is talk. I want to fight," Hawk called into the emptiness above.

"Cancel that, Mouse. If Hawk wants a fight, he'll get one," Trinity ordered.

Pixie's face wore an odd mix of guilt and happiness upon hearing Trinity's orders. She felt badly for Hawk, true, but there was part of her that thought he deserved a good spar with Trinity. He wanted a fight, after all.

Pulling Neo aside, tugging on his sleeve and pointing him towards the other side of the room, Pixie leaned against the wall. With deft motions, she undid the braid in her hair and shook the heavy curtain of dark hair out so that it fell in its normal pin straight fall. The same deft motions saw Pixie rebraid her hair, tossing it over her shoulder where it swung like a strange tail.

"Staying out of their way would be smart," she told Neo, "We could spar a bit, if you want. That way you're not standing here."

Neo looked apprehensive, not wanting to accept her off but not wanting to turn it down either. He'd been told that training was important and had been working with nearly everyone on the ship except Pixie. Sparing the older females on the ship was one thing but being asked to spar with someone half his age was a whole other story. No matter how many times he reminded himself that she wasn't, Pixie always reminded Neo of a little girl, someone much younger than her given age of nineteen.

Pixie watched Neo as he wrestled with whatever demons were plaguing him. She had a funny feeling she knew what was bothering him about her offer.

"Don't say you don't want to because I'm a girl. I'll be upset if you do," Pixie pointed out with a small giggle, "The whole gender bias thing went out the window a long time ago. At least, before I was freed anyway but that wasn't a long time ago."

Still looking at a very tentative Neo, Pixie cajoled, "I promise, you're not going to do anything that hasn't been done to me already. I've gotten beat up pretty badly before."

"You sure?" Neo asked, cautiously, afraid that one wrong move might break the narrowly built young woman.

"Very sure," Pixie assured him, "You can talk to Hawk about some of the pretty awful things he's done to me in here. He'd be more than happy to tell you about them."

She stepped into a stance, arms falling into a double arm block to protect both head and stomach, waiting for Neo to do the same. With a resigned sigh, Neo followed suit, still wondering if he was doing the right thing.


	15. Flower Man

AN: Hiya everyone! Welcome back to my little misadventure. I hope you're enjoying the ride through the first movie in _The Matrix_ trilogy, even though I've added a few of my own characters into it. Like I said, Pixie and Hawk- Wheeler too but he won't come in until later, really- aren't going to play huge, storyline changing roles. They're just sort of there in the background, doing their own thing, and having their own little misadventures. I just wanted to remind everyone reading this of that because the next few updates are going to involve some of the major happenings in the first movie. Don't worry, though, Pixie or Hawk, won't be going into the Matrix when Neo meets the Oracle and they, certainly, won't be saving Morpheus or anything like that. Nope…they'll be off doing their own thing and getting into their own situations. I just can't say how or why they won't be involved…that would spoil the story! Anyway, hope everyone's enjoying the start of fall. I'm still not pleased with my New York Mets since they're still not playing well. So much for quality fall baseball, right? To everyone out there actually reading this mess of a story, thanks very much. I really appreciate you taking time out of your day to read this story. It really does mean a lot to me. To everyone who's left me a review…you guys rock! Thanks for letting me know what you think of this little misadventure.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Taken enough to hurt youAnd all the things they saySo put on your armor…" (From "Flower Man" by Tonic)

The mess hall seemed to have shrunken. Of that, Pixie was certain. There was no other way to explain why the room that had once seemed somewhat roomy now felt tight and cramped.

Of course, the medic-in-training knew that it was scientifically impossible- Rooms did shrink and grow but that was slight. They'd never shrink in the amount she was thinking. -but she figured it could happen. Maybe the rules of physics and chemistry were slightly different here. Maybe there was some way for a medium sized metal room to shrink to tin can size.

Either way, since Neo's arrival on the hovercraft, the mess hall seemed tighter than usual. It became all the tighter when everyone squeezed in to eat together in the mornings. The more bodies in the room, the less space there was for anyone to breathe, much less eat.

In order to buy herself a little space, Pixie had relinquished her seat at the battered table that took up space in the center of the room. Instead, the young woman had opted to sit on top of one of the counters in the room. Since no one else wanted to sit up there- It wasn't that far up but the ledge was a bit on the narrow side- Pixie had the small space to herself. It was the perfect escape from the crowd that was gathered around the table since it wasn't so far that she was detached from any conversations but wasn't too close either.

With her morning ration of goop in her lap, Pixie eyed the rest of the crew. It was breakfast as usual with eating and idle chatter seeming to be the orders of the morning. Mouse was sitting next to Neo, chatting more than eating. Pixie figured that he was making his obligatory offer of the woman in the red dress to Neo.

Hawk, who was nearly staggering, wandered into the room. He seemed a bit off kilter and his eyes glazed over. He walked along the outside of the table, bumping into people and, generally, making a nuisance of himself, and stumbled into Pixie's legs as they hung off the edge of the counter.

"Hawk, you can't sit up here," Pixie stated, placing her bowl- or what could creatively be called a bowl- of goop next to her lest Hawk knock it onto her semi-clean clothing, "there's not enough room."

Despite her best efforts to improve the synthetic protein that they grew in vats and ate only because it kept them alive, Pixie hadn't quite perfected her improvements on its basic structure. Didn't stop her from trying, though... There had to be a way to give it a better, more palatable consistency or to just make it taste better. She just had to find that way.

"I wasn't going to sit on your precious counter, Pix," Hawk commented, "I'm just in here for something to drink. Then I'm going back to bed. I'm taking a personal day. I feel terrible."

Pixie gave Hawk an odd look, wondering what he was talking about. Not that she didn't think he felt terrible. With his complexion flushed and the fact he was sweating quite profusely, Hawk looked like the picture of ill health. Pixie was curious about his proclamation that he was taking a "personal day." Last she'd checked, the only person able to give "personal days" was the captain and Pixie didn't remember seeing Hawk talk to Morpheus when he stumbled into the room. Apparently, Hawk was issuing himself a day off whether Morpheus liked it or not.

"Serves you right for trying to out drink me last night, Hawk," Cypher pointed out from someplace behind Pixie.

"Well you were the one who challenged me," Hawk countered, "Besides, I though Pixie's white cure-all would make me feel all better. It fixes everything else."

Pixie, who had only been half listening- Mouse's discourse with Neo was far more interesting- snapped to attention. What Hawk was describing as her "white cure-all" was actually acetylsalicylic acid; a very crude form of the Matrix painkiller aspirin. It was simple enough to make, mixing the proper chemicals and using a very basic filtration technique in tandem with a slightly more complex purification procedure.

It was something every medic-in-training knew how to do since aspirin was considered to be, even in its crude form, a good pain killer, fever reducer, and anti-inflammatory. Of course, you had to be cautious when taking it because it was so crude. It was easy to overdose or have some form of poisoning if it wasn't purified correctly. No one could get it perfectly pure- the technique was good but not that good- but some got it pretty darn close.

"How...how much did you take, Hawk? Do you happen to remember?" Pixie questioned, her voice becoming worried.

Though it was refined to the best of their abilities, the crude aspirin was known to cause the lining of the stomach to bleed if taken in too high doses or with alcohol. Hawk had already entered the at risk area, taking it with Dozer's throat stripping alcohol. She wanted to see how far over the edge he had gone.

Overdose with the crude aspirin wasn't uncommon either. It happened every once and a while on ships. Everyone seemed to know a medic who knew a medic-in-training who had a friend who'd seen it.

Hawk shrugged, grimacing as he did so. It seemed the mere act of shrugging was causing him a great deal of pain. That struck Pixie as odd because he was supposed to have stomach pain and not body aches. Unless his stomach was hurting so badly that it made the rest of his body ache. That was entirely possible too.

Doubling over, Hawk managed to groan, "I don't know. I took one whole dose…or was it half…look I don't remember. What does it matter anyway? It's obviously didn't work."

Pixie shook her head, a frown crossing her face. What was one dose- one whole sample of the white powder kept in what looked like a blister but made from plastic instead of skin- actually contained about eight individual doses for a person of average height and weight. Usually the doses were carefully measured out, not taken as one whole blister.

Doing some quick mental math, trying to make a rough guess on how much crude aspirin Hawk had actually taken. Her frowned deepened when she realized that he'd taken anywhere between four to six doses of the crude aspirin. That put him well within the danger zone for not just stomach issues but a whole mess of other problems.

She slipped off the counter, dropping her dish in the sink behind her. If she acted quickly, there might be time to fully counter act the increased acid levels in Hawk's blood. Probably save his life at the same time by doing that.

Pixie started to open her mouth to order Hawk to follow her down to the medical bay so she could start treatment. Her words, though, died on her tongue as Morpheus opened the door and entered the room. He cast his gaze about the room, seeming to look for someone in particular.

"Dozer, when you're done, bring the ship up to broadcast depth. We're going in. Taking Neo to see her," he ordered, leaving just as quickly as he'd come.

A strong, smothering silence filled the room. Nearly everyone in cramped room knew who Morpheus was talking about. Everyone save Neo, who looked a bit confused and nervous about what the captain had just said.

"See who?" he asked, slightly bewildered.

"The Oracle," Tank whispered in reply.

Another silence started to take over, as everyone started to eat as quickly as they could without getting sick. Pixie sighed, knowing what she had to do but not really liking that she had to do it. Especially now that Morpheus was taking Neo to see the Oracle.

"You get down to the medical bay," she ordered, jabbing a finger at Hawk, "I have to go talk to Morpheus. I'll be down there as fast as I can."

Hawk nodded and, much to her surprise, crab walked his way down to the med bay, whimpering and simpering the entire distance there. He was acting like a severely wounded animal, making Pixie a slightly suspicious. She'd seen him the night before as she was coming off watch and he'd been fine then.Of course, symptoms could come on quite swiftly; she knew that to be true. The timetable, though, didn't seem to make any sense. There was just no way for him to get that sick that quickly- especially since she'd heard Hawk could hold his alcohol very well- and for Hawk to take such drastic actions as to remedy it.

Something weird was going on but Pixie didn't know exactly what that something weird was nor did she know how she knew something weird was going on. It was just a feeling she had, a feeling without any reason or proof behind it. For that reason, Pixie decided it should be ignored for now.

There were other things that had to get done whether she liked them or not. If Hawk was actually ill or he was just faking it, Pixie decided to play along with his game. If had done what he has claimed to have done, there was a finite window of time before the bleeding got too out of control or the acid levels in his blood caused their evil side effects. After all, there was a perfectly good reason why the body's pH was kept at a steady level. Messing with it was a fast way to big problems.

"Sir, May I have a word with you?" she called, jogging as fast as she could in order to catch up with the captain and his long strides.

Hearing Pixie shout, Morpheus turned and waited for his medic to close the distance between the two of them. He looked down at her, marveling at the fact that she was still considerably shorter than he was, as she came to a sliding halt in front of him.

"Yes, Pixie," Morpheus prompted, in his normal calm voice.

"Hawk said he doesn't feel well...that he and Cypher had been drinking and he'd taken some amount of crude aspirin in order to alleviate his symptoms. Except I think he may have taken too much," Pixie told the captain.

Morpheus sighed, exasperation crossing his face. He'd wanted his entire crew to enter the Matrix today. Their mission was far too important to risk not having enough guards with them to protect the hardline.

"You'd like to stay with him, correct?" Morpheus questioned.

Pixie wrinkled her nose, and replied, "Not really but I'm going to have to. If it's as bad as I'm hoping it's not, I'm the only person who can treat him because Dozer will be busy doing other things."

"Very well," Morpheus conceded, "Please make every attempt possible to keep Hawk in one piece. Though I doubt I should be telling you, of all people, that."

Pixie knew she could have, hypothetically, left Hawk and gone into the Matrix with the others. She knew he was, basically, making her miss out on something big because he'd done something foolish. Hawk was many things- most of them not too nice- so, maybe, he deserved to be left ill or in pain.

The young woman knew that was ethically wrong, though. It went against the oath they still made every medic who'd left the Academy take on the day they were given their accreditations. The first rule, the golden rule of medicine would always be "First do no harm." Leaving Hawk to in dire straits, just because she wanted to go with the others was most defiantly doing harm.

"If it's any consolation, sir, I would have liked to have gone with you," Pixie admitted, scuffing her shoes against one another like a little kid who'd done something wrong and now had to explain themselves.

"Your place is here, taking care of Hawk," Morpheus said, "Next time you can come."

Pixie gave him a sad nod and wandered back in the direction of the medical bay. She expected to round the corner and find Hawk lying on one of the metallic tables ready for his exam. Maybe, instead, he'd be sitting up and moaning and groaning how no one was there to help him in his hour of need.

Peering into the medical bay, taking care not to be see, Pixie spotted Hawk was leaning against one of the walls, the picture of good health. He laughed, hardily, and looked around the room. With him, laughing just as hard was Cypher.

"It's going to happen today, right?" Hawk asked, after getting his laughter under some semblance of control.

"Today's the big day. I can't wait to see the look on Morpheus's face when he finds out what's going down," Cypher said, his voice laced with evil glee, "I've been waiting forever for him to take that two bit, so-called savior to see the old bat."

"So, they're going to let you back in to the plant," Hawk started.

"And you're going to get a ship of your very own and your lady love to go with it. We all get what we want," Cypher finished.

From his open mouthed stare, Hawk looked like he wanted say something else. Something he never go to say because a look from the bald headed, goatee wearing resistance fighter caused those words to die before they were spoken.

"I guess we do," Hawk commented, rather blandly.

Pixie furrowed her forehead, trying to comprehend what she'd just heard. It was obvious from that small eavesdropped bit of a conversation Hawk and Cypher were planning something or had just wrapped up planning something. Whatever they were planning involved Cypher going back to the power plant-something she knew to be impossible-and Hawk getting both a ship and a woman.

It hit her like a ton of bricks when she realized that the woman Cypher was referring to was probably her. She'd be the only female on the ship when everyone had gone. Her eyes opened wider still when she realized that Cypher was planning to turn the others over to Agents. He was going to betray them to the machines.

Pixie knew that she should go tell Morpheus, go warn him of Cypher and Hawk's- though Hawk only seemed an accessory and a small one at that- little plan but she found herself rooted to the part. She couldn't get any of her body to move, much less run.Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Pixie wandered back into the medical bay. She was making an attempt not to let the two traitorous males in the room know that she knew what they were planning. That would have just made things worse.

"You should be resting and you should be getting ready to go," Pixie announced, gesturing to Hawk and then to Cypher in kind.

The two exchanged glances before Cypher stalked out of the room. Pixie, her mind going a mile a minute, turned her attention to Hawk. There had to be something she could do, some way she could prevent whatever they had planned from happening.

She just had to figure it out first.

AN: I actually made aspirin in chemistry once. Would I have taken it? Probably not. It can be done, though, just in case you were curious.


	16. Fighter

AN: Heya everyone! Alright, I have something to explain about this up date. Actually, I have a few things to explain about this update. First of all, I know this update is kind of late. That's because I had no internet connection and no phones in my house for about a day and a half. The phone company knocked out one of the power lines or something and I couldn't get on-line to retrieve the rough form of this update, since I keep them saved to AOL instead of my hard drive. I got my internet back today much to my delight, since I had a power point to do and e-mail to my professor and I could get this update done! Second of all, this chapter is sort of brutal and I apologize for this in advance. There's a perfectly good reason for what happens. I'm sorry, though, if this chapter bothers anyone. I don't condone this sort of thing at all! Finally, and on a totally unrelated note, I'm really quite disappointed in my New York Mets. I can't believe that they managed to implode and not make it to the postseason! I was at their final game last Sunday and I've been to a lot of bad games but that one was, by and large, the worst ever! Anywho…thanks to everyone out there reading this story! I really am amazed that anyone actually reads what I write. I only really wrote this to pass time and get ideas out of my head. To everyone who's left me a review, you all rock like a box of socks! Thanks for taking time to leave me a review!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"After all of the stealing and cheating  
You probably think that I hold resentment for you  
But, uh uh, oh no, you're wrong'  
Cause if it wasn't for all that you tried to do  
I wouldn't know how just how capable I am to pull through  
So I wanna say thank you…" (From "Fighter" by Christina Aguilera)

Pixie was almost sure that every nerve in her body was trying to fire at once. Sure that was a scientific impossibility but that was how she felt. She felt as if she was just a bundle of nerves and little else. Her heart was racing a mile a minute and she knew her mind wasn't on the task at hand. She knew she was supposed to be giving the supposedly ill Hawk her full attention- he'd gone back to moaning and groaning as soon as she entered the room- but she found she couldn't.

Her mind was swirling with a million thoughts, each of them totally unrelated to her once "friend." Instead, her thoughts were focused on what she'd heard. She knew she had to do something but Pixie was still lost on what she could do.

She knew she should have, really, run right up to the Core to tell Morpheus about what she'd heard but Cypher and Hawk could have easily called her bluff. They, probably, would have told the captain that she was lying or that the stress of her job had gotten to her and she'd had a mental break or something. Whatever would have happened- the "shoulda," "coulda, "woulda," didn't really matter at this point- she was sure Cypher would have just called off his little plan.

What's more, her "crying wolf" would have done more harm than good. She wouldn't get anyone to believe her a second time.

Now, she knew she had the option of going to the Core to talk to Tank or Dozer but every time Pixie found an excuse to leave the room, Hawk started moaning and groaning again. She was almost sure he was faking it but she didn't want to chance it if he wasn't. If he was heading towards an acid crisis, things could go from good to bad in seconds and treatment had to be administered right away lest things go from bad to worse. Though he wasn't exactly one of her friends, she didn't want anything bad to happen to him.

Stuck between the preverbal rock and a hard place, Pixie tried to concentrate on the task at hand. Namely, making sure Hawk stayed among the living.

"You two seem awfully chummy," Pixie noted, her back to a moaning Hawk as she fished a syringe from one of the metallic drawers that lined one wall of the room, "I didn't think you and Cypher were that close of friends."

"Actually," she added, turning around and walking back to the table where Hawk was lying, "I didn't think Cypher had many friends. He doesn't strike me as a very friendly person."

"Like you should talk, Ms. Too-Good-To-Talk-To-People," Hawk snapped, giving Pixie a glare as she tried to find a place to lock the syringe in.

That was one thing Pixie appreciated about being dotted with metallic holes. She'd never been a fan of IV lines during her time in the Matrix- they hurt going in and you got in a great deal of trouble if you pulled them out- so using plugs made her smile. There was no looking for veins and then trying to get them to come up. There was no need for sharp, shiny, pointy needles when you could just use a plug.

Pixie returned Hawk's glare, going about her work without saying anything to him. There was no real need to quantify his comment with a response. Anything she said would just be twisted around to suit his argument, anyway, and Pixie didn't want to give him anymore fuel. What he had about her from the Matrix was quite enough fuel in her opinion.

"Besides," Hawk added, as Pixie turned to put the sample she'd just taken in one of the many little machines that would analyze the sample and spit out results, "he knows what he's talking about. I can't say the same for the company you keep."

Again Pixie's response was silence. Making like she was busy, which she actually was, the medic-in-training stared at the machine and listened to the silence around her. It was strange not to hear the heavy footfalls of the others she worked with. It was near impossible to walk quietly on the ship, between the metallic walls and floor causing every sound to echo and the heavy boots they all wore.

The lack of normal noise was a little disconcerting for Pixie. She could only wish that it was a normal day full of its normal comings and goings on the floating tin can she called home. Nothing was going to change the fact that today wasn't going to be one of those normal days…not by a long shot.

After what seemed like an age had passed- an age in which the boot sounds Pixie was use to hearing hadn't returned- Pixie turned to fully face Hawk. Her expression was one of absolute consternation. For all his moaning and groaning and whining, which was still occurring, there was something rather…funny…about the results she was getting.

Not funny in an amusing way either. More like funny in a…not funny…way.

"Look, I've run every test I can think of and some I made up on the spot. I can't find anything wrong with you. There's no trace whatsoever of the crude aspirin in your system. You sure you're not lying to me, Hawk?" Pixie questioned, putting her hands on her narrow hips and trying to stare down Hawk.

Every scan she'd done had come back clean and every blood test she'd done had come back as pure as newly fallen snow. Patients might have lied but the test results didn't. There were very few ways to "fake sick" and be able to get test results to lie along with you. You could "fake sick" all you wanted but the tests didn't lie.

Hawk, Pixie knew, could have very well faked his illness but there was no way she could think of- meaning there was no way he could think of one either- to fake increased acid levels in his blood or any other testable symptom of aspirin poisoning. It was really his pain against her test results in a battle of wills.

"I'm not lying to you. You must have done something wrong," Hawk protested, through gritted teeth, "I'm in a lot of pain here. I think you should do everything again."

"I've run every test in here twice. There is absolutely, positively nothing wrong with you. Results don't lie," Pixie retorted, getting angry.

With a sly grin on her face- The type of grin that showed just why she called herself Pixie- the young woman added, "I do know something that does lie, though. Maybe you're not telling me the whole truth here."

"Are you accusing me of lying, Pixie Sticks?" Hawk questioned, lowering his voice to a near hiss.

"Actually, Hawk I am," Pixie, defiantly, answered, "I heard you and Cypher before. What did you think? Someone wasn't going to find out? We're not all as dumb as you look right about now, you know."

Hawk balanced, turning a ghostly shade of white. The cat was out of the bag and, not only was it out of the bag, but it was running around and pouncing on things. Cypher had tried to keep their little plan quiet but it seemed like someone knew.

Of all the people who had to know, though, it had to be the one person who was playing a role- albeit unwittingly- in their little plan. At least, she hadn't said anything to anyone else, as far as Hawk knew. That had to be a good thing.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Pix. You must need some time off this ship if you're hearing things like that," Hawk commented, trying to keep his voice light as if to make a joke and failing miserable, "you starting to lose what's left of that so-called brilliant mind of yours?"

Pixie gave Hawk an appraising look. From the look of panic he was wearing, it was clear that he knew that she knew what was going on. He could try to talk his way out of it all he wanted but it was probably going to be to no avail. Pixie, as much as he didn't like to admit it, was a whole lot smarter than he was. She was going to see through any lie he threw at her now.

"Hawk, I really don't know what happened to you. You took the hard left someplace and now you've gotten us both stuck in this situation. I think Cypher duped you and you're just too dense to realize it," Pixie explained, her tone logical but tinged with a hint of fear.

Hawk, all pretense of illness gone, had stepped off the table, not bothering to put his shirt back on even though the air on the ship was, as always, cold. He took a few steps toward Pixie, stopping just before she was at arm's length. If he wanted, he could reach out and grab her though Pixie knew she'd do everything in her power to get away.

Pixie's once friend looked at her as if she was an enemy, an Agent or something just as evil trying to keep him down. There was something else in his glare, though, something that made Pixie incredibly uncomfortable. If she were to place it, to give it a qualitative word, she would call it lust. He looked at her as if the ideas in his head were less than innocent in nature.

The young woman fought the urge to squirm and tried to tap into that cool collectedness she tried to use when she was in the Matrix. Much to her surprise, Pixie found that calm center inside her nervous body. She returned the stare, not even flinching under Hawk's strangely unnerving gaze.

She felt bad, somewhat, for the boy she had known in the Matrix. He had been almost harmless before but somewhere along the lines that had changed and it seemed like he wasn't going to be able to go back to the way he'd been before. Before as in how he was in the Matrix…not how he'd been when they'd both been freed.

Hawk had come to the Real World and had found the real him. He was cocky and arrogant, cruel and cold. He hadn't been the best person in the Matrix- Pixie had come to realize that he'd used her- but he'd been relatively harmless. He'd been sort of…doofy…really; even he did tend to use people. That was different now. Too different to allow him to go back to the way things were before.

If that was the case, his actions toward her had allowed her to find her real self. Pixie wasn't the sickly little girl with no friends that he had known. Sometime between her unplugging and the moment she was in now, she had changed into something Hawk hadn't expected. Pixie had grown up and had grown into something Hawk hadn't expected.

"Cypher knows what he's doing. He's sick of listening to Morpheus and all that garbage about the One," Hawk snapped, walking towards Pixie and forcing her to walk backwards to get away.

With anger causing his voice to become as sharp as a razor, he added, "Besides, I'm sick of following orders. I'm better than everyone on this ship, even you, but I have to follow Morpheus like some kind of sheep. I came here to think for myself, not to be told what to think and what to believe."

"Morpheus never told us we had to believe in the One. I'm not even sure I believe in the One. He only wants us to help him out. That's all," Pixie said with a shake of her head, "Cypher's just playing you for the fool. You're a fall guy for him if his plan falls apart."

"You don't know what you're talking about. Cypher knows more than you can guess and he's not going to let me take the fall for him. In the end, we're all going to get what we want," Hawk told Pixie, the look he was giving her making her feel a little naked.Pixie looked at Hawk wearing a confused expression on her face.

She wasn't entirely sure what he was getting at or how he and Cypher were going to pull of what he was claiming to be able to do was. In a morbid sort of way, Pixie found herself curious as to how this was going to be done.

"Just how is he planning to do this, Hawk? If you're smart, maybe you can share your little secret with me," Pixie asked.

A challenge resonated in her voice, whether she wanted it there or not. It was a challenge Hawk couldn't refuse. He didn't want Pixie getting the upper hand and, in a backwards sort of way, he was sure this was for her own good. Cypher had said to keep her busy and out of the Core in order to "keep her safe" and that was what Hawk was going to do.

"He worked it out with the Agents. He hands over Morpheus so they can get into Zion and I get this ship," Hawk answered, his tone matter of fact.

Pixie blinked a handful of times. She couldn't believe what she'd just heard. No one, in both the Real World and the Matrix, could be that abysmally stupid.

"You know that if Agents get into Zion, it would be all over for us. It won't matter that you have this ship or anything else for that matter. They'd just hunt you down and kill you because you're human," Pixie countered, her back against the wall.

With a sly sort of smile, the young woman added, "I kind of think that Cypher wouldn't bother making special arrangements for you. He doesn't seem like that kind of person, Hawk."

For a moment, Pixie thought Hawk's head was going to burst. His face turned bright red and it didn't take much for her imagination to fill in steam pouring out of his ears. Apparently, she's said something Hawk didn't want to hear or believe.

"You'll never change, Pix. You're always going to be the same dork you were in the Matrix. The sort of dork who has to hide behind her big and bad friends because she's not big or bad enough to defend herself. You're never going to be anything more than that, Pixie Sticks. I'm sorry I have to tell you that," Hawk stated, his tone low and deadly.

The stare Pixie gave him was severe enough to melt steel. It was a hard edged glare that she didn't, normally, have to use. This seemed like the occasion for using it, though.

A very long time ago, something like that would have bothered her, even though she wouldn't say anything. Maybe she'd run of crying like that time he'd screamed at her in the Academy's lunchroom but Pixie wasn't entirely sure. Whatever the response, Pixie knew that his words would have gotten to her in the worst way.

Things were different now…Pixie knew better for one. Where Hawk was one person telling her she wasn't good enough, there were others who told her that she was good enough. For some odd reason, the one person who stuck out in her mind was Wheeler. He was always telling her that she was just as good- if not better- than those around her.

"Don't twist this around to make it about you or me or anyone else for that matter. The whole point of this job was to free people. We're supposed to be working against the Machines, not turning one of our leaders over to them. If you couldn't see that, then why did you take this job in the first place?" Pixie challenged.

Much to her surprise, Hawk started to laugh. It was an evil, malicious sounding laugh but it was still a laugh. Not the kind of laugh that she ever wanted to hear again for as long as she lived.

"You don't really have the right to talk about this job being about freeing people. The only reason you were freed was me. I asked them to free you," Hawk taunted, "You weren't chosen because you were particularly intelligent or crafty or special. Nope…they got you out because I wanted you out."

Though he made it sound like something she probably didn't know, the opposite was true. Pixie had known for quite some time- She'd accidently found out during one of the "girls nights" that occasionally happened on the ship- that Hawk believed that he was the reason behind her freeing.

The thing was, Pixie also knew the truth. She knew that Hawk had only been freed because Morpheus wanted to use him as human bait in the quest to get her to take the red pill."That's a lie and you know it," Pixie countered, "The truth is that I was the one they wanted to free all along. You were freed only because Morpheus thought I wouldn't take the red pill."

Composing herself- Pixie still wasn't completely comfortable talking about what her situation had been in the Matrix- the young woman added, "I was dying, Hawk, I would have taken it anyway with or without you being here. Hate to burst your bubble."

A muscle ticked just below Hawk's left eye. He was getting angry and Pixie knew it. She hadn't meant to push him like that. All she wanted was to show him the truth and, maybe, possibly, get him to help her.

She guessed that wasn't going to happen now. Actually, Pixie was sure that he wouldn't have helped her at all. Still, it was a nice thought. The idea that he might be willing to help her out…see that he was going down the wrong path…was a nice thought but not one that was possible.

Annoyed by her comments and the fact her words had a silver ring of truth around them, Hawk took a swing at Pixie. His eyes had gone wild, and his face was contorted into a mask of abject anger and rage. He was angry now and there was no reasoning with him at all.

Pixie moved just in the nick of time. The blow glanced off of one of her cheek bones, the brunt of it being taken by the wall behind her.

She ducked underneath Hawk's arms, starting to move towards the room's only exit. The more she tried to run, though, the faster it seemed Hawk came at her. His arms flailed in erratic arcs as they tried to make contact with her. His tunnel visions, his wild eyes, were trained on her and her alone. He wasn't going to let her get away because he was supposed to keep her safe.

Alright, this wasn't safe in the normal sense but it would keep her from running off to stop Cypher. Someplace in Hawk's anger twisted mind that made perfect sense. Safe and unconscious were about the same.

It didn't take Pixie all that long to remember that they weren't in the Construct or the Matrix, places where the two of them possessed skills far beyond what was possible in their carbon based bodies. This was the _Nebuchadnezzar, _the Real World. Pixie, with her thin and wiry build, was flexible but that wasn't going to get her very far against the physically stronger Hawk.

She ducked, trying to run away from Hawk. The young woman figured her only hope was that he would tire himself out before any of his blows could cause her any harm. She wanted the glancing shot she'd gotten across her cheekbone- which was bruising already- to be the only one.

That wasn't to be as Hawk caught her with a stinging smack across her face. It was strong enough to cause her head to twist from right to left, momentarily setting her equilibrium off kilter.

Pixie turned, fire burning in her brandy brown eyes, and fully faced Hawk. Though she'd wanted to run away, his stinging slap forced her to change her mind. He wasn't even fighting her like the equal she, supposedly, was. Instead, he was treating her with kid gloves because she was a girl.

The young woman really didn't like fighting- she lived in fear of actually hurting someone- but she was angry. In her anger, she lashed out at Hawk, roundhouse kicking him and catching him square in the ribs as hard as she possibly could.

Hawk stumbled back a few paces, his anger abating for a moment as a sense of shock took its place. There was no Matrix enhancement behind her kicks this time. It was pure adrenaline and anger combined with the heavy boots she was wearing. The shock of her fighting back- the fact she might just put up a fight had never entered Hawk's mind. He'd figured she'd understand that he was protecting her and that he wanted her more than Wheeler did. After all, Wheeler wouldn't have done this for her-passed in a few brief moments. Hawk's anger returned with a vengeance. Yes, he'd started out wanting to just stop her from getting away and warning Tank and Dozer about but now he was enraged.

Grabbing what was closest at hand- a metallic tray Pixie had been using to hold smaller pieces of equipment so her hands would be free- Hawk whacked Pixie in the back. Her back arched from the blow and pain seared along every nerve ending. The blows continued for what seemed like forever as Pixie tried to get away again but to no avail.

With Pixie bent nearly in half, Hawk decided to try and knock her out. He aimed the tray at her head, preparing to bring it down as hard as he could. What he didn't expect was Pixie, like a wounded animal backed into a corner, to kick upwards. The tray he'd been brandishing as his weapon was sent back into his face.

His nose seemed to explode all over his face. Pixie didn't really need to look up, not that she could anyway, to know that it was most likely broken.

"That was your lucky shot," Hawk growled, putting a hand to his face and frowning when it came away red, "you're not going to get another one of those."

"Bet I am," Pixie countered, forcing herself to smile despite the fact she knew she was hurt.

Like some kind of strange dance, the two wound their way around the medical bay. Pixie knew that she was pushing herself too hard, that her back was going to give out on her sooner rather than later. She could almost feel herself slowing down as she tried to subdue Hawk and get him out of her way.

Pixie wasn't entirely sure what she was going to do once she stopped Hawk. She didn't have a particular plan in mind or anything. All she knew was that she had to get to the Core and warn Tank and Dozer before it was too late.

During the course of their little tussle, Pixie found herself being backed up against a set of drawers. She could feel the handle of a half opened drawer digging into her already bruising spine. Making a blind grab as the drawer closed from her leaning on it, she pulled out a full syringe. A "pixie" smile crossed her face as the medic-in-training realized what she'd just pulled out.

Hawk grabbed Pixie around the shoulders, looking as if he wanted to headbutt or kiss her. Without so much as a second thought, Pixie jammed the syringe into one of the jacks in Hawk's arm. She depressed the plunger, flooding the young man's body with a murky looking liquid.

Hawk's eyes rolled up into his head and he hit the ground with a dull thud. The syringe had been full of a powerful anesthesia, one that would keep Hawk out cold for several hours.With whatever strength she could muster, Pixie managed to get Hawk onto a table and strapped down in five point restraints. Not that those were necessary. He wouldn't be going anywhere for a while.

As Pixie bent under the table to tighten the last strap, she realized that she couldn't move. The muscles in her back were no longer playing nicely with her anymore. The young woman sank the cold floor of the ship's medical bay, her knees pulled into her chest, and started to cry.

"How could this man I thought I knew  
Turn out to be unjust, so cruel  
Could only see the good in you  
Pretended not to see the truth  
You tried to hide your lies, disguise yourself  
Through living in denial  
But in the end you'll see  
You won't stop me  
I am a fighter and I  
I ain't goin' stop  
There is no turning back  
I've had enough…" (From "Fighter" by Christina Aguilera)


	17. Blackbird

AN: Hiya everyone! It's one of my favorite times of the year, despite the fact the weather is getting cold and I don't like the cold. It's time to get ready for Halloween! I have decorations to put up and a really huge Halloween party/carnival for my Girl Scout Troop to help put together. The troop is throwing this party with games and such for about eighty kids ranging in ages from three to seventeen, though the older girls will be manning the games rather than playing them. Everyone has to be in costume, too, which is perfectly fine by me. After twenty-one years of dancing and wearing really ugly costumes sometimes, I think I'm immune to having to wear costumes on Halloween. Though, I did get a really cool scarecrow costume to wear. That might help a bit too! Actually, it was a toss up between that and breaking out my Matrix-y costume I wore a few years back. Anyway, I hope everyone's having fun doing whatever it is they do this time of year! Thanks to everyone who's still reading this craziness that is Pixie's misadventure! You're all really awesome for taking time out of your busy day to read this. To everyone who's left a review and my beta reader, you all rock like boxes of socks!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night  
Take these broken wings and learn to fly  
All your life  
You were only waiting for this moment to arise…" (from "Blackbird" by The Beatles)

Pixie didn't know how long she'd sat on the cold metal floor of the medical bay, unable to move because her back had stiffened up on her. A combination of let down adrenaline and the cold had caused her muscles to seize up. Without her back to support her, standing was going to be an issue. Walking, well, that one was going to be near impossible. Her lower back wasn't playing nicely, either.

She'd cried her eyes dry, unable to produce any more tears. She felt horrible, terrible, worse than low as she sat on the floor just underneath the table where the unconscious Hawk lay. Whatever Cypher had planned, she was almost sure his plan had gone off uncontested. Maybe Tank and Dozer had been able to stop him, but they didn't know what she knew. They didn't know what he and Hawk had been planning. She wanted to tell them, to let them know the plan, but she couldn't. She hadn't been able to force her sore and stiff muscles to get her standing and moving.

All she could do was sit on the floor and cry like some oversized baby. That fact only made Pixie feel worse. She'd always wanted to prove that she could pull her weight on the ship, but- when push had come to shove, she hadn't been able to do a darn thing. She'd stopped a minor player in a larger plan. That wasn't exactly heroic, or anything like that. It was just something she'd accidently done because he'd gotten her angry.

The sound of boots- the heavy footfalls that had been absent most of the day- caught Pixie's attention. Her ears perked up even as she felt her body, painfully, tense up in case she had to run. She doubted that she would be able to run, but that was a whole other story. Still, her fight or flight response kicked in. She was ready and rering to go if something were to happen. Something that was heralded by those heaving footfalls.

Trinity still couldn't believe that any of what had taken place was real. That idea struck her as funny in a not-so-funny way. After all, this was the Real World, the place where everything was very, very real. It was the opposite of the Matrix, the reality where everything was false. The thoughts and feelings of those still trapped inside the virtual walls of the worldwide dreamscape were all generated by the Machine Empire.

Everything here was supposed to be real but- for the first time in a very long time, Trinity found the Real World too surreal for her liking. Everything that had transpired from the moment they'd come back to the hardline seemed almost otherworldly. It was almost like it had happened to someone else, and she was watching it happen like a television show or a program from the Construct.

Her return to the ship that she called home had made things all too real for her. Cypher's betrayal became that much more painful when she awoke on the ship to find Tank seriously injured and most of the crew dead. Morpheus lay like someone caught in the grips of a strong, powerful dream. His eyes moved behind their lids, darting here and there, but unseeing in the Real World. Trinity could only imagine what horrors he might be seeing in the Matrix and what terrible torment he might be enduring.

The only two who were missing from the sad gathering in the Core of the _Nebuchadnezzar_ were Pixie, the resident medic-in-training, and Hawk. Trinity wasn't sure what Cypher could have done to the young pair. They hadn't gone into the Matrix with the others, owing to Hawk suddenly falling ill, and there hadn't been all that much time between him and Pixie going off to the medical bay and their leaving for the Matrix. Cypher didn't seem like the type who was good enough to do something in that short amount of time.

She'd gone down to the medical bay to get something for Tank. He was in obvious pain, but was trying to hide it. He was trying to tough it out, since he was the only Operator they had. He had a job to do and he wanted do to it, injured or not. Trinity respected that, but she still wanted him to be comfortable. His wounds had to be looked at, but there wasn't time enough for that now. There were other things to do first…other things that had to be considered first.

Like how to properly say "good bye" to a man that had been a father to everyone on the ship.

Trinity knew rationally what had to be done, but it didn't mean she liked it. Those on the _Nebuchadnezzar_ had become something like a family to her (not that she'd ever admit that fact to them) and Morpheus had played the role of the stern but kind father to them all. She'd left her family in the Matrix without so much as looking back, but she was sad to see her family here falling apart.

As she walked into the medical bay, Trinity stopped in her tracks. The room, usually kept neat and orderly by Dozer, Morpheus, and Pixie, was in total disarray. Equipment was strewn all over the floor, some of it destroyed as if it had been stepped on by the heavy boots everyone wore, and one of the tables had been turned on its side.

It almost looked as if there'd been a fight in the room, but Trinity, as she stood in the doorway, could only speculate about who the combatants might be. Her first thoughts were of Cypher trying to attack Pixie and Hawk in order to get them out of the way, but- stepping further into the room, Trinity discarded that idea.

Hawk lay still and silent, tied down to one of the tables in the medical bay. Checking his pulse and measuring the rise and fall of his chest, it was easy to see that Hawk was very much alive. The young man was out cold and looked as if his face had met something pretty unforgiving- his nose was spread out all over his face and he had two spectacular black eyes- but he was still alive. Why Cypher would just beat him up and then leave him lying there, tied down but still breathing, was beyond her. It just didn't make any sense for him to orchestrate the death of the whole crew but leave Hawk alive.

A sound from someplace near the floor caught Trinity's attention. The sound was a cross between a startled gasp and a squeak of surprise. It was a weird strangled sound that didn't come from Hawk. Hawk was too deep in his chemically induced stupor to even consider making any noises. No, this noise had to have come from someplace else.

"Pixie?" Trinity half exclaimed, half asked, seeing the young woman sitting in a ball on the floor. "Are you alright?"

Pixie looked up, staring at Trinity with red rimmed eyes. The young woman was almost sure that she was seeing things. That the pain from her combined injuries- not just her back though that was hurting her the most out of everything at the moment- was making her see things that weren't there. Rubbing her eyes in a sleepy sort of gesture did little to change the situation. Trinity still stood in front of her, looking at her in amazement.

"Cypher!" Pixie blurted out. "He's made a deal with the Agents…he wants to give them Morpheus. He told Hawk that he's going back to the Power Plant and that Hawk is going to get the ship….and me."

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Pixie added, "I tried to stop him…I tried to warn Tank and Dozer but…"

Much to Pixie's surprise- because she'd thought she'd cried her eyes dry- tears started to spill from her brandy-brown eyes. She felt like a failure, because she hadn't been able to get to the Core to tell Tank and Dozer about Cypher and Hawk's plan. Failure was not high up on Pixie's list of feelings she enjoyed. As a matter of fact, it was probably someplace near the bottom of that list.

"But what, Pix?" Trinity prompted, kneeling down to Pixie's level.

She knew she didn't have time to waste, but Trinity wanted to hear what Pixie had to say. The medic-in-training had, obviously, been involved in something, but Trinity wasn't sure what. Her idea of Pixie and Hawk fighting off Cypher was rapidly coming apart at the seams. The older female believed Pixie's hurried words- Pixie had no reason to lie to her and, besides, she'd heard a rumor that Pixie was incapable of lying anyway- and wanted to see where the story went. Plus, if Pixie could stand, another able body was always a good thing.

"Hawk….Hawk and I fought," she answered, speaking slowly. "He wanted to stop me I guess. I don't know...he really didn't want me leaving though."

"You knocked him out?" Trinity wanted to know, clearly impressed.

She felt bad for Pixie because she knew Pixie wasn't a big fan of fighting. During their training for her little battle with Hawk- which seemed like a lifetime ago now- Trinity had pulled Pixie aside to find out why she was so hesitant when it came to fighting. Pixie had admitted that she was alright with taking blows from other people- she wasn't afraid of getting hurt herself- but she was afraid of hurting someone else. She didn't like the idea that she could cause harm to another person.

The odd thing was, Pixie rationally knew that she had to learn to fight, to break herself of the silly fear she had of hurting people. It was part of her job. She might have signed up for a medic's position, but that wasn't all she was going to be asked to do. No, like everything in the Real World, even those in the military, had to have more than one purpose.

She was getting better at dealing with her fear of hurting others, but Trinity knew Pixie wasn't completely free of it. The young woman, after all, was the only member of the rebellion she could think of that carried stun and tranquilizer guns with her. Whereas everyone else used assorted firearms, depending on personal preference, Pixie carried weapons that could hurt but probably not cause permanent damage or kill. It was odd, it was unusual, but it worked for her.

"Not in the way you think," Pixie replied, starting to consider how best to get up off the floor without asking for help. "I used an anesthetic agent on him and then tied him down. He won't be up for a while."

Before Trinity could ask anything else, the medic-in-training broached, "Did…did you guys manage to stop Cypher?"

Though she hadn't said anything, hadn't been able to get the word out to anyone because of Hawk, Pixie wanted to know if anything had been done to Cypher. Maybe, somehow, they'd found out about his plot and managed to do something to stop him. Pixie wasn't entirely sure how, but still, she could hope.

By the time Trinity finished explaining the cliffsnotes version of what had happened- from the police ambush on the hardline to Cypher's admittance of his betrayal and what he did afterwards- Pixie was too stunned to cry or even speak. She just sort of sat there, staring with her mouth open, not believing a word that was said but at the same time, knowing in her gut that it was most likely true.

"I'm sorry," she stated, her voice very small and soft, "I'm sorry I couldn't warn anyone that he was going to do something."

Pixie felt incredibly guilty, as if she, single-handedly could have played the hero and saved everyone from what Cypher and Hawk had planned. If she'd been just a bit faster or stronger or something she could have stopped Hawk sooner. Maybe she wouldn't have gotten hurt and unable to move. Maybe she could have gotten away scot free and told Tank and Dozer what was going to happen.

She knew it was meaningless to consider anything now. What was done was done and there was nothing anyone could do about it. There was no changing what had already occurred, no matter how much Pixie wished it. Still, she felt guilty about what had happened, like it was almost her fault.

Trinity wasn't entirely sure what to say or do. She'd come down here to get medical supplies and had found herself a medic-in-training who'd tried to warn the others about what was going on but had come up against Hawk. The older female had to give Pixie credit for trying, though. It looked like she'd put up quite a fight in order to get Hawk down.

"Can you stand?" Trinity asked, getting to her own feet and giving the medic an appraising look.

She'd wasted enough time talking to Pixie. True, the information she gained was important but there were still other things she had to do. Other things that Pixie could help doing if she could get her off of the medical bay's floor. Other than some bruising on her face, there seemed to be nothing wrong with her.

Pixie tried standing, but found that her back was still stiff. She wasn't able to push herself up from the floor as easily as she normally could. The young woman did manage to get to her feet, but was forced to lean against Hawk's table. Her back wasn't exactly keen on supporting her.

"I can stand," she answered, sounding a little amazed, "but I don't think I can walk."

"What did Hawk do to you?" Trinity asked, curious as to why the usually spry Pixie was having trouble standing.

As far as people on the ship went, Pixie was probably one of the most flexible ones on the craft. Both in the Construct and out, she was able to bend in strange and unusual ways. That had come to a surprise to everyone, Pixie included. She hadn't exactly being that flexible in the Matrix so she hadn't really been expecting to be a bit on the bendy side after her rebuilding and training.

Either way, Pixie unable to stand on her own or walk was something of a concern. It was obvious that Pixie had been hurt during her fight with Hawk. How she was injured, though, wasn't obvious.

The young woman reached behind her and lifted up the hem of the baggy sweater she was wearing. Her sweater had been mostly gray, but it was now flecked with Hawk's blood. Mostly from his nose, Trinity suspected.

Seeing Pixie having issues with whatever it was she wanted to show the older woman, Trinity walked behind Pixie and was shocked by the amount of bruising Pixie was sporting all over her back. Most of the bruising seemed, from what she could see, concentrated around her spine but it spread out all over the young woman's back.

"He took that tray over there to my back," Pixie explained, pointing towards a warped and bent metallic tray that lay across the room, "I knocked it back into his face. That's how he wound up looking like that."

"Then you knocked him out and tied him down," Trinity finished. "How come you never got to the Core?"

She didn't want to sound like she was accusing Pixie of anything, but it was a little curious that she hadn't tried to get up to the Core. Trinity knew that Pixie was loyal to Morpheus- even if she didn't believe in the One- and despised Hawk but still, she had to ask. She had to be certain that she wasn't in cahoots with Hawk and Cyper.

Pixie couldn't quite believe that she was being subtly accused of working against Morpheus. She knew she probably should have been offended but, instead, she decided that the question was warranted. After all, this was a very strange and tragic situation, something that happened but it really shouldn't have.

"Adrenaline let down," Pixie answered, speaking quickly, "Once I got Hawk on the table and tied down, I couldn't move at all. I got all stiff."

The after effects of a major fight or flight response were well known within the halls of Zion's hospital. There were quite a few cases of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder on record, and there were plenty of people who suffered panic attacks because of their high-stress lives. Pixie's muscle stiffness and sore body were just normal side effects. Her body had only allowed her to feel the extent of her injuries after the fight with Hawk had ended. During the fight, the powerful chemicals flooding her system, had kept her on her feet and moving by preventing her from feeling just how hurt she was.

With the threat past, the chemicals were no longer needed. Without the powerful chemicals and their pain blocking effects, Pixie's body reacted to the injuries Hawk had given her. Her muscles stiffened and, no matter how hard she tried, she wouldn't be able to move.

"I believe you," Trinity told the young woman, "I know you can stand but can you try to walk? We could use a medic right about now to take a look at Tank's burns."

A concerned look crossed Pixie's face as she came to a starling realization. Without Dozer around, she was, for all intents and purposes, the medic on the _Nebuchadnezzar_. That was a scary thought to say the least.

"I can try," Pixie answered, taking a few very tentative and unbalanced steps, "but can you get me the supply kit and a really mild painkiller injection?"

Trinity did as the new on-ship medic stated, questioning, "I understand what the kit is for, but what about the injection?"

"That's for me," Pixie answered, with a soft giggle, "I want to be able to move around for now."

Trinity watched as the young medic gave herself a pain killer before asking, "You ready?"

Pixie nodded her head, walking carefully after Trinity. Her steps were still a bit on the unsteady side but she was determined to keep herself moving. She might not have been able to warn the others about Cypher and his plan- she was still feeling quite guilty about that fact -but she could do something now. Even lending a hand in the smallest way possible was a start on the road to making up for her failure to warn the others.


	18. She Will Be Loved

AN: Long time no…see? Well, I guess I could use that phrase, right? Sorry about the delay on this chapter! Hope all of you had a wonderfully, spooky, candy filled Halloween, though! My Girl Scout Troop threw this huge Halloween carnival with games and candy and stuff like that. No rides, though, since we didn't have enough money and because we weren't allowed to get them anyway. Even without carnival type rides, though, the kids had a really good time. Since I have the youngest troop- the three to six year olds- I wound up dressing like a scarecrow for the party. The kids said I wasn't scary enough but, hey, I wasn't a scary scarecrow anyway. Well, I'm still waiting for my Master's Exam grades too! They were supposed to come in October but they haven't yet. This waiting is driving me insane! I apologize in advance for this chapter being a bit…strange. I hope it wasn't too weird, the switch that you're about to see. Let me know if it was! Anyway, to anyone out there still reading this mess of a story…thank you very much. I really appreciate you taking the time out to read my little misadventure. For anyone who's left me a review…you guys rock like a box of socks and you're all awesome!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Look for the girl with the broken smile  
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile  
And she will be loved  
She will be loved…" (From "She Will Be Loved" by Maroon 5)

Wheeler remembered being nervous. He remembered plenty of times in the Matrix where he was nervous. There were plenty of situations where he'd been pitching in big games--- Well, as big as games could get when it was little league or his school's baseball team. ---and found himself getting just a little nervous. After all, it was hard not to be, when the entire town was banking on him to throw the big pitch and win the game for them.

Wheeler remembered his young, scruffy-haired as calm, cool, and collected. He was a left handed pitcher but he lacked what was generally known as the "left handed mentality" which, oddly enough, had nothing to do with people who wrote with their left hand.

Most coaches and players felt that left handed pitchers had a certain mindset about them. To say that left handed pitchers were "quirky" was putting it mildly. Most were downright insane, when it came down to it. There were plenty of lefties, including those in the Major Leagues, who couldn't pitch unless they performed certain ritual actions before taking the mound. There were many who weren't able to pitch if something traumatic happened on the field. Most of them were thought to be just strange.

Case in point…

Wheeler remembered a boy on his high school team named AJ. No one knew what AJ stood for, and no one really bothered to ask. He wasn't exactly the most talkative or the friendly type, anyway. Everyone use to joke that his attitude was as bad as his grades, which were abysmal in the first place. Sure, the school had an academic standard that said that anyone on a sports team had to maintain a passing average, but they let it slide for AJ. When Wheeler joined the team, AJ had been a senior, and the team's ace pitcher. He was, for all intents and purposes, the reason why Wheeler wound up in the bullpen that year. Well, maybe just one of the reasons, but that wasn't the point now.

AJ, like Wheeler, had been a left handed pitcher. Among his other quirks, AJ used to pitch with a neon blue glove that bore the names of fringe rock groups on its back. The one time a coach had protested the use of said glove in a game--- he said it was a distraction to the batter--- AJ had been unable to pitch. For some reason, the loss of his beloved glove had equaled the loss of his pitching abilities.

Wheeler, though, wasn't like most other left handed pitchers. He had very few, if any, of the normal "lefty mentality" personality quirks. He wasn't overly emotional when he pitched, and poor fieldwork didn't cause him to pitch just as poorly as his team was playing. If anything, the fact he wasn't exactly overly emotional might have been his own "lefty mentality."

Either way, Wheeler had been nervous many times before, but that had been in the Matrix. For some reason, those nerves seemed to pale in comparison to the ones he was feeling now. The fear he was feeling now was like a thousand angry birds were trying to burst out of his stomach. The ones he use to get when he pitched, well, those were maybe just butterflies or bees. Definitely something a whole lot smaller than the birds that had taken to flying around his stomach.

The funny thing was that Wheeler had been having a really good day, prior to the moment when he was told to grab a flashlight and head into a random nondescript sewer pipe because there was some exploring to be done. A rare one, at that. One had very few good days when working under Captain Mace on the _Shatterpoint_. It wasn't that he was a terrible captain, or anything like that. Rather, he was just demanding of everyone on his crew. It was like he lived to give orders and to have sword fights in the Construct with his first mate Depa. Not necessarily in that order, though.

His ship had been heading back to Zion with the _Logos_ when they came across a distress signal. The message being broadcast from the ship was extremely faint--- it had barely been picked up by the _Shatterpoint_'s computers--- but it was there. A terse message, asking for help, was being sent out and the _Shatterpoint_ decided to answer the call.

As for the _Logos_, it had no choice but to follow along. At the moment, the smaller ship was suffering from, as far as Wheeler understood it, some kind of electronic issue. There was a short some place in the power supply, causing the ship's batteries to fail after a few hours. The _Shatterpoint_, a larger ship, was helping the ship get back to Zion by providing periodic jumps.

"Isn't that Morpheus's ship, sir?" the pale faced Operator of the _Shatterpoint_--- Haruun--- asked, speaking to the dark skinned man sitting next to him.

For all intents and purposes, Mace could have been Morpheus's twin. Both men were larger than the average Pod Born, with dark skin and eyes and bald heads. Mace's features might have been a bit sharper than Morpheus's, but that was up for debate. It was in appearance only, that two men were similar. Their personalities were as different as night and day, at least in the Matrix.

Mace was the demanding type, the type who wanted those who worked under him to do as he said and not question it. If you didn't agree with what he was asking you to do, it was best you didn't say anything. Anyone who disagreed with Mace wound up doing the worst tasks on the ship. Not only was Mace demanding, but he was as stiff and unyielding as the weapon he was named after. You didn't win arguments with Mace. No, you just hoped to walk away with all your limbs intact.

There was a rumor on the _Shatterpoint_ that Mace did have a soft side. He was a nice guy, but only towards certain people, and never when he was working. Wheeler didn't believe that rumor, thinking it was something Elan, a fellow worker on the _Shatterpoint_,cooked up. Elan was always up to something, and nine times out of ten, it wasn't good. It wasn't below him to start a rumor like that.

Mace peered through the _Shatterpoint_'s windshield, looking at the ripped open hulk of a ship lying in the rock and rubble strewn ground. It was hard to tell, really, what ship it even was. From their vantage point, it could have been any of the larger ships in the fleet. The larger ships all tended to look alike, Wheeler knew.

"It could be the _Nebuchadnezzar_ or it could be any of the other ships," Mace stated. "They're definitely in trouble, though."

"There aren't going to be any survivors, sir," the _Shatterpoint_'s first mate, Depa said. "We shouldn't waste time going down there. It's bad enough we have to drag the _Logos_ with us. If we get into a tight spot, that ship might be trouble for us."

If Mace wasn't exactly the nicest person on the ship, Depa was just a little meaner. She was, for all intents and purposes, Mace's apprentice instead of second in command. The pair spent every waking minute training together or just huddled off in some corner chatting. It was Depa to whom Mace showed the barest of kindnesses. She was the only one exempt from his ire and the only one he never allowed to do some of the more menial tasks on the ship.

"But if there are survivors, Captain Mace," came a quiet but stern voice from behind the captain. "Then it is only a matter of time before the cold or the machines get them. Barriss and I would be more than willing to look after them."

Wheeler, who'd been lurking in the doorway of the ship's cockpit, turned to find an older female standing over his shoulder. Standing behind him was Luminari. Luminari wasn't exactly a medic, but for some reason, she did know quite a bit about medicine. Wheeler did ask once but, he only received Luminari's soft smile in response. She was a motherly sort of woman, kind, in a way that opposed Mace's cold nature. Wheeler liked the older woman with her quiet ways and strange facial tattoos--- She had three rows of small diamonds on her chin as well as single rows of diamonds on her cheekbones--- because she'd always been extraordinarily kind to him.

"Don't you and Barriss have something else to do?" Depa asked, peering over her shoulder to speak to the almost-medic.

The older woman shrugged and answered, "At the moment, we have nothing to do. Those on the _Logos_ are not injured and all of you are in fine health."

All eyes fell on the captain, leaving the decision up to him.

"Haruun, call Niobe and tell her we have a trashed ship. Tell her to just settle in and wait while we check this out," Mace ordered.

Wheeler hung on to the wall as the craft landed, watching the ship below them grow progressively larger. A lump was forming in his throat, and the birds in his stomach started their flapping as he realized that the ship was indeed the _Nebuchadnezzar_. Where Pixie worked.

Leaving Haruun and Elan to watch the _Shatterpoint_, Wheeler followed his captain and the rest of the crew into the dreary expanse of the sewers. Wheeler himself was unarmed but stuck close to Luminari, who was. After they were joined by Niobe, Ghost, and Chian, the scruffy looking young man started to feel just a little out of place. He was the youngest person standing there…but not the only one worried about the people that might have been trapped on the ship.

"Why's the kid here?" Niobe asked, vaguely gesturing towards Wheeler as he stood just outside the group, "Mace, leave him with the ship. There are more than enough people here."

Wheeler was almost glad the female captain had said that. He almost wanted to be back on his ship instead of entering the torn up hulk that had once been the _Nebuchadnezzar_. After all, if the ship looked as bad as it did, he couldn't help but wonder if there were even any survivors. The machines had done a pretty thorough job tearing through the hull of the ship. He really didn't want to walk into the ship, only to find a certain member of its crew dead.

Still, there was a part of him that knew he had to go into that ship. No matter what was waiting for him just beyond the metallic hull--- or, what was left of it anyway--- of the _Nebuchadnezzar_, Wheeler knew he had to go in that ship. If he didn't, he knew he'd always wonder what it had been like. He'd forever kick himself for not going to see what had become of Pixie himself.

"Closure. Right, Wheeler?" Chian broached, speaking to the scruffy looking young man, "Not that we want closure, of course. We want to find them alive."

Chian earned herself a few strange looks but she seemed to be unaware of them. Yes, she knew exactly how the situation looked to them, but she could hope. That was one luxury she allowed herself, even if it was because she was hoping for the best but preparing herself for the worst. As much as she wished she was going to find her friend alive, she was also prepared for the opposite.

The young man nodded his head, messing his hair up further. He hadn't thought about the whole idea of "closure" but if that got him on the _Nebuchadnezzar_ with the others, then he was willing to go with that.

"Let's just get this over with," Mace snapped, rubbing his arms in a feeble attempt to ward off the chill. "We're wasting time, and I don't want your battery getting cold and dying on us again," he told Niobe. "I don't know how much power the _Shatterpoint _has to spare."

It was eerily quiet as the group made their way into the derelict craft. Wheeler lifted a leg over a piece of jagged metal, his bright hazel eyes darting here and there. He'd seen pictures of destroyed ships during his time at the Academy, but seeing it in person, made it more than a little shocking. Maybe the fact his best friend worked on the _Nebuchadnezzar_ that made it that much more traumatizing.

"Easy now, Wheeler," Chian soothed, grabbing the boy's shoulders in a vice like grip, "don't get all jumpy now."

He'd jumped backwards, hitting Chian, after seeing the still but deadly looking hulk of a Sentinel. The mechanical monster lay on the metal floor of the _Nebuchadnezzar_, its bright red eyes dead and cold. Well, if they were human eyes, they'd be dead and cold. The machines, with their running lights instead of eyes, always had a deadly and cold look about them. There was no human warmth or feeling about them. Then again, it couldn't be there because they weren't human. They were just uncaring, unfeeling machines.

"If that thing got in here…," Ghost started, leaving his sentence dangling.

Everyone knew what he was implying, even if no one wanted to say it. It didn't really matter whether or not they were friends or enemies neutral with those who worked on the _Nebuchadnezzar_. No one wanted to see any other human have their lives ended by the Machines. It was the unfortunate reality of their job--- that their lives might be ended by the malevolent Machines--- but that didn't mean they had to like it. It was still a tragedy when someone was killed by the mechanical monsters.

"They could have gone below," Barriss pointed out, her tone extremely hopeful. "It looks like it didn't get below this deck."

Mace gave his medic a look, almost warning her not to get her hopes up. Barriss reminded Wheeler of Pixie in that way. Each of them had a hopeful sort of attitude. They wanted everything to be all right and they wanted to see the best in everyone. Of course, that wasn't always possible or true. Bad things happened no matter what and, as the expression in the Matrix went, bad things always happened to good people.

"I don't think so, my friend," Luminari stated, gesturing over to a group of shrouded figures lying on the ground, "It would seem not everyone made it below deck."

"Barriss, Luminari," Mace ordered, "go take a look."

"Ghost," Niobe added, "go with them."

A painful sort of silence reigned in the craft as the _Shatterpoint_'s medic and her de facto assistants checked out just what was hidden underneath the shrouds. Wheeler hung back, his heart thudding and his breath sort of caught in his chest. He kept trying to rationalize what he was seeing. He wanted to convince himself that one of those bodies--- if they were indeed bodies--- was not Pixie's. They were too big or not the right shape or just obviously, not Pixie's.

"The Squiddies didn't get these poor souls, sir," Barriss stated, standing from the crouch she'd been in, "I can't find a causes of death for two of them but it's clear that they weren't killed by Squiddies."

"What killed them then?" Niobe asked.

"A lightening gun," Ghost answered, "killed at least two of them. The others…like Barriss said, I wouldn't be able to say for certain."

"Sparks might," Chian threw in, "he's more of a medic than Ghost is."

"I doubt it. There are no marks on two of these bodies, and there's blood on one of the others," Luminari, sternly, countered, "Sparks wouldn't be able to tell on sight what happened to these people. I doubt anyone will be able to."

"It's not the entire crew. There are too few people here. We shouldn't give up hope," Barriss pointed out. "I'd like to take them back with us if there are no other survivors, sir. Just to give them a proper burial."

Mace might have had a reputation for being harsh, but he wasn't that heartless. There were families back in Zion--- biological or otherwise--- who would miss these people. They'd want closure too. They'd want something to visit as a way to remember someone they lost.

The male captain nodded and added, "Let's get moving. If there are any survivors--- and that's a big "if" Barriss--- they're probably frozen half to death."

Wheeler had to admit that Mace was right. It was really cold, for some reason. Maybe that had to do with how far they were beneath the surface but Wheeler wasn't sure. What's more, he didn't really want to bother thinking about that, either. There were more important things he was worried about.

"Luminari," he asked, separating himself from Chian and going to stand near the tattooed female. "Do you know if any of them…"

He trailed off, not really wanting to know the answer what he was trying to ask. Half of him wanted to know if she was there, but the other half of his mind didn't really want to know. There was part of him that felt like it was best he didn't know. There was that old saying "ignorance is bliss", after all. There had to be some merit to the phrase.

"Were your little friend?" Luminari finished. "No. The only woman was a white haired woman. You said your friend had long, dark hair, right?"

Wheeler nodded and added, "Yeah, waist length dark hair. Sort of brown but kind of black at the same time."

"She wasn't there, Wheeler," the tattooed female told the young man. "She may yet be alive."

It was that small bit of hope that Wheeler hung on to as the group continued to carefully make their way through the hulk that had once been the _Nebuchadnezzar_. Maybe Pixie would be alive someplace else on the ship. She'd be cold and miserable--- her dislike for the cold was legendary--- but she'd be alive. That was enough for him.

"I'm telling you," Depa snapped as the group made their way through another half destroyed corridor. "We've been down this way before. We've been through this entire ship and there's no one else on here. Just those bodies in the Core!"

It almost looked as if the others were inclined to agree with the _Shatterpoint_'s first mate. They'd been walking for what seemed like forever in the chilled air that circulated through the derelict ship. There had been absolutely no sign of any other bodies in the rubble strewn corridors of the once mighty ship. The only bodies were the ones covered in the Core.

"Someone had to have covered those bodies, Depa," Chian countered. "The rest of the crew couldn't have vanished into thin air."

"No, but they could have been torn limb from limb and are buried under the rubble. That would make them pretty darn hard to find, no?" Depa retorted, sounding angry.

As the argument between the pair of women continued to rage--- Chian wanting to continue the search and Depa wanting to leave the ship--- Wheeler drifted away from the group. He knew, that Luminari was staring at his back. She was one of the only people on his ship that knew about him and Pixie, beyond the fact that they were friends. Elan was probably the other person who knew, and only because Elan seemed to know everything that was going on throughout the fleet.

The scruffy young man wandered a-ways down the destroyed corridor trying to imagine Pixie doing the same. It actually wasn't really all that hard to imagine. In his mind's eye, he could see Pixie walking down the hallways with her hair loose and wearing one of baggy sweaters she was so fond of. Maybe she'd be talking to someone else on the ship or she'd be walking alone, trying to avoid any "unwanted" attention. The sort of attention that Hawk would occasionally give her, if Wheeler remembered Pixie's stories correctly.

Later, Wheeler wouldn't be able to say just what made him look in the direction he had. He'd never be able to say what small thing in the air or what tingling in the back of his neck made him turn his head towards a room that Depa had claimed they'd been past before.

"Luminari, Barriss!" The young man shouted. "I think I found another one!"

It was the tattooed women from his ship that reached Wheeler first, peering into the room around the scruffy looking once picture. The others followed, nearly knocking Wheeler down in an effort to see what he'd found.

"Good man," Mace commented, clapping down on Wheeler's left shoulder and making the boy wince. "Looks like we have another dead body."

Though he was sure that she hadn't meant anyone to hear her, Wheeler swore he heard Chian mumble, "Wasn't it your first mate that said we should get out of here?"

Walking into the room--- a very messy medical bay--- Barriss made her way over to the prone body. Wheeler, staring now from the middle of the crowd, frowned when he saw who he'd found. Of all the people, it had to be Hawk. Not exactly one of his favorite people in the Real World.

"It's not a body, sir," Barriss corrected, standing up from her bending over the body. "He's cold and he's obviously not conscious but he's breathing. This boy is alive."

Though it was Hawk, the fact the other young man was alive gave Wheeler a small shred of hope. If Hawk was alive, then maybe Pixie was too.

"Look around," Niobe ordered. "This kid's tied down. Whoever tied him down might still be in here."

It didn't take long to find the person who tied the young man--- Hawk, though only Chian and Wheeler knew that was his name--- down, among others. Huddled in several nests of blankets and clothing, were the rest of the _Nebuchadnezzar_'s crew. All looked worse for wear and most of them were cold to the touch. Deathly cold, actually, and unconscious, but still breathing. Even the ship's Operator, with his horrible looking burns, was alive…just barely though.

"Wheeler," Chian called, as the others started working on how to remove the survivors from the craft. "I think you should come over here."

Moving as fast as he could without getting in everyone else's way, Wheeler made his way over to where the usually big mouthed female stood. She was standing off to one side, out of the way over everyone else, almost guarding a pile of blankets and other odd cloth items. It looked like she was watching over a heap of discarded items, actually, instead of doing anything of any value.

"What's up?" Wheeler asked, keeping his eyes on the others as he had yet to see where Pixie was.

"Look what I found. We knew she had to be in here somewhere," Chian stated, a laugh in her voice.

Pulling back one of the many blankets, Chian revealed a face that made Wheeler almost fall backwards. Though she was wearing an unnatural grimace on her face, was a certain dark haired medic-in-training. Checking himself just to make sure, Wheeler smiled. He'd found Pixie, cold but alive and well.


	19. Meant to Live

AN: Heya everyone! Hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving, if you celebrate Thanksgiving and are getting ready for the big winter holidays. My Thanksgiving wasn't so good- my dad was in the hospital- but Christmas is shapping up to be good. At least, I hope it's going to be good anyway. My house is already decorated and the tree just went up! This Friday is my Girl Scout Troop's Christmas show and I can't say it's going to be a good thing. I gave all the kids their scripts before Halloween and no one has any of their lines memorized! It's a disaster and a half! I just hope, by some small miracle, things managed to get themselves together by then but I almost doubt it. On a non-holiday related note, I went to the New York Anime Festival last Saturday. It was my first time at a convention and, I have to say, it was a whole lot of fun! I got some really cool stuff and I won a $250 doll at one of the panels I went to see. I can't wait to go to another one! Anywho, thanks to everyone still out there still bothering to read this story. I greatly appreciate you taking the time out to read it. To all those who left a review….you rock like a box of sock!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Dreaming about Providence  
And whether mice or men have second tries  
Maybe we've been livin' with our eyes half open  
Maybe we're bent and broken, broken…" (from "Meant to Live" by Switchfoot)

It felt later than it actually was, in Wheeler's mind anyway. He felt like he'd been up several hours without any rest to shorten the hours into manageable spans of time. Not a feeling he particularly liked and not one he, normally, had to deal with. One of the long standing rules on the _Shatterpoint_ was that everyone got about six hours of sleep--- non-continuous, of course. It just had to add up to six hours in theory--- a night so no one was overly tired.

Mace never accounted for the waking up and trying to fall back to sleep that came with coming on and going off watches. No one ever really got the full six hours Mace said that they should. It worked out in theory, true, but not so much in practice. That little fact was never mentioned to Mace, though. Everyone let the captain think that his little system worked in order to avoid his anger.

The one problem with that had always been Depa but even the _Shatterpoint_'s second in command didn't let Mace in on the flaw in his plan. She let him think that she got six hours of rest, along with everyone else. That was one of the very few things Wheeler could think of that Depa did that was kind. Usually she was just as bad as Mace.

Either way, it still felt incredibly late to one scruffy looking young man as he sat outside the _Shatterpoint_'s medical bay. Chian had been sitting on the floor with him but she said that the waiting was killing her. She just couldn't sit there anymore and wait for news on Pixie and the rest of the crew of the _Nebuchadnezzar_.

She'd been the one to pat him on his dirty blond haired head and tell him that his tired feelings were just the result of emotional stress. He'd gotten himself so worked up about Pixie; Chian explained in a knowing sort of voice, that he stressed himself out. Once that stress was gone, once he knew that Pixie was safe and sound, he crashed. That was what left him feeling like it was later than it actually was.

Wheeler was almost inclined to believe Chian. Her explanation made a strange sort of sense to him. Then again, Wheeler also figured that the explanation would have made more sense if it had come from Pixie. The dark haired medic-in-training--- Alright, his "girlfriend" but he didn't like using that word. He and Pixie had agreed that they were just better than best friends instead of any sort of couple. ---would have explained it better. Sure, she would have used a lot of big words but, coming from her, everything sounded better.

"Don't you have work to do?" Depa snapped, stepping into the corridor and looking at the pale faced, scruffy haired young man sitting on the floor outside the medical bay. "There's a ship that needs repairing and another that could use a looking at. I doubt Captain Mace gave you permission to just sit here and while away the hours."

Wheeler gave Depa a strange, questioning look. Had it only been hours? It felt a whole lot longer since they'd brought the cold and unconscious crew of the _Nebuchadnezzar_ onto the _Shatterpoint_. It felt like an age had passed since Luminari had quietly ordered him and Chian to bring the cold Pixie onto their ship. She'd allowed him to take Pixie into their medical bay but she wouldn't let him stay with her. With a few stern words, Wheeler found himself leaving the room. That was when he stationed himself against the wall, keeping a silent, distant watch over his friend.

"I wasn't ordered to do anything else, ma'am," Wheeler answered, "Other than go with you guys onto the _Nebuchadnezzar_."

Depa glared at Wheeler, fixing him a stare so stern and commanding that he felt compelled to stand up. Not to meet it or anything like that. More like so it wouldn't squash him flat to the ground. The once pitcher figured that he had a better chance of fighting the weight in Depa's glare from a vertical base. He really didn't relish the idea of being squashed by someone's gaze.

Roughly grabbing the young man by the shoulder of the tatty sweatshirt he was wearing, Depa started dragging Wheeler away from the Shatterpoint's medical bay, stating, "Well, I'm sure I can find you something to do."

Wheeler knew better than to protest when Depa said something. He just followed along casting a last glance at the medical bay's doors. Thought Wheeler wasn't exactly religious, nor had he been in the Matrix actually, he said a prayer to whoever was out there listening to a person like him. Just a few simple words to let whoever was out there know to keep an eye on Pixie for him while he was gone. Not that he didn't care about the rest of the crew of the _Nebuchadnezzar_ or anything like that. He was worried about them too but he was closest to Pixie so she was sort of first in his mind.

From that moment on, Wheeler's day just got longer. For the rest of the day, without a moment's rest, Depa dragged Wheeler all around the _Shatterpoint_. He became her person go-for and was tasked with doing the most mundane of things on the ship. Wheeler couldn't really remember the last time he'd been set lose in the engine room to check all the gaskets on the duct work. It had to have been back when he first started on the _Shatterpoint_ and he'd made the mistake of crossing Mace. That had been the last time he'd been tasked with doing something that mundane.

Still, a small part of Wheeler was glad for the highly repetitive and mundane work. It gave him something to focus on instead of worrying about Pixie and what was happening to her. The last he'd heard, before Luminari had gotten him to leave the room, was that Pixie had hypothermia and a strange pattern of deep seeded bruising along her spine. The hypothermia was understandable because of the cold and the absolute lack of heat on the ship due to lack of power. That one made sense to Barriss, who was working as the primary medic for the survivors they'd found.

The bruises Pixie was sporting all over her back were a different story. Barriss, when asked what she thought had caused them, said she couldn't say for certain. She didn't want to jump to any incorrect conclusions and risk Pixie's life on a treatment that might do more harm than good. When further pressed by Mace--- who seemed to be worried that the bruises were the result of the Machines doing something to her before they were killed. Though, what that something was, he couldn't say. ---Barriss said that the bruising on Pixie's spine, along with what she was calling defensive injuries on her hands and forearms, appeared to come from a fight. Someone had hit her with something to create those bruises on her back. What that something was and who had done the hitting would have to wait until everyone regained consciousness.

Something in Wheeler's gut told him that he knew who'd caused those bruises on Pixie's body. He could only think of one person on the crew of the _Nebuchadnezzar_ that was cruel enough to do something like that to someone like Pixie. Then again, he might have been jaded in his opinion on that person.

Wheeler really didn't like Hawk. Actually that was an understatement. Wheeler, more or less, hated Hawk in so many words. Yes, he was well aware of the fact that "hate" was a strong word but that was just how he felt about Hawk. He didn't want to sugar coat it either so he went with the strongest word he could think of.

Whatever the case was, whoever hurt Pixie, was going to pay. Maybe not with the "pound of flesh" sort of thing but, somehow, Wheeler was going to make them pay. No one hurt Pixie and got away with it. Not while he was around to watch her back.

It was late--- like actually late in the clock sense of the word--- when Wheeler found his way back to the _Shatterpoint_'s medical bay. He knew he should have been sleeping but he also knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep if he didn't check in on Pixie. It was silly but he just wanted to make sure she was still alright. For some reason, just the idea of losing her made him want to make sure that she was still among the living.

The _Shatterpoint_'s medical bay was deathly silent; even the monitors had their sound turned off. There were only two people still resting in the room, much to his surprise. Apparently, everyone else had woken up and gotten moving while he was off doing mundane things to keep Depa happy.

One was Tank, the Operator on the _Nebuchadnezzar_. He still lay, flushed and quiet, on one of the cold metal tables in the medical bay. Wheeler had seen the burns the Operator had and knew they were bad, even without the medical knowledge Barriss, Luminari, and Pixie had. Even though they'd been treated--- Wheeler guessed that was Pixie's handiwork ---they still looked bad. The cold probably hadn't helped the situation any either. He'd heard Barriss say that the chill might have slowed down any infection that might have settled in the burns but it didn't help either. The cold had slowed down circulation, preventing the body from healing itself.

The other still out cold was Pixie, herself. Wheeler wasn't really sure why though. Aside from the bruises, she looked otherwise alright. Then again, Wheeler was no medic so he wasn't entirely sure that was right. She could have been badly hurt, internal injuries or something, and Wheeler wouldn't have been the wiser because he was no medic.

"She's fine," Barriss told Wheeler, turning away from Tank and catching the young man off guard. "I'm just keeping her asleep until the shivering stops. I have a funny feeling that it would hurt her if she were awake."

"Because of her back?" Wheeler wanted to know, stepping further into the room and walking towards the table where Pixie lay. "Why are her hands and legs tied down?"

Barriss nodded and added, "You must have missed the story while you were with Depa. That boy--- the one you found tied down to the table ---woke and said that young woman started a fight with him. He says she's insane and he was just defending himself against her. Captain Mace didn't want to take any chances."

Wheeler gave Barriss and odd look as he tried to figure out what he'd missed. Apparently, it was a lot considering there were only two people left in the medical bay and Hawk was already up and telling stories about what had happened. There were a few tales in Zion about people working on ships and having psychotic breaks because of the stress associated with their jobs. Wheeler knew that Pixie could be a bit crazy but he was also very sure that she wouldn't be the type to have a mental breakdown. Not with what he knew about her past anyway. She might not have looked all that tough--- especially now, lying on her stomach, hands and feet bound to the top and bottom, respectively, of the metal table ---but Wheeler knew she was. She had to be to survive what she did.

"Wait…what?" he blurted, trying to make sense of what Barriss was saying to him and failing miserably at it.

Barriss looked at the young man she worked with and gave him a wan smile. It really had been a long day for all of them. Certainly it felt long to her because she'd spent the day dealing with more patients than she was use to. Even with Luminari and the extra hands from the _Logos_, there was still more work than normal. Trying to get Tank stabilized had taken more people than Barriss cared to think about. Then came the mess with Mace wanting answers about Pixie's bruises.

It had been one of those days that reminded her of just why she never bothered to go into medicine in Zion proper. Barriss was fine with handling one sick or injured person but a rush of people, all looking for help, was something she just couldn't handle. For whatever reason--- Barriss have never been able to figure out just what that reason was. ---when faced with too many people, she tended to freeze and forget what she had to do. All of her training seemed to pour out of her ears and pool underneath her.

That was where Luminari came in. The older woman wasn't a medic, per say, but she knew just as much as any medic Barriss knew. Luminari had been a huge help today, reminding Barriss what to do when she froze up and helping to keep her focused on the tasks at hand.

"That boy," Barriss stated, speaking slowly. "Said that this young woman snapped and started claiming he was trying to take over the ship. He said that he jumped him, in an effort to 'stop' her, he had to fight her."

Clapping the boy on his slumped shoulder, Barriss pointed out, "I just finished her neurological exam. There's nothing up there to indicate a break. I also lessened her medication. The shivering has stopped and Captain Mace wants her awake."

"Can I stay…?" Wheeler started to ask but Barriss's grin killed the rest of his inquiry.

"I'll let the captain know this is where he can find you if need be," she assured Wheeler. "Just don't touch anything, alright Wheeler?"

Wheeler nodded and dragged a chair over to where Pixie lay. She looked asleep, really, and that might have been an accurate description of what she was doing. She was, technically, speaking asleep. It just wasn't a natural sort of sleep. No, it more a sleep that was brought on by whatever Barriss had given her to make sure Pixie stayed asleep while she was examined.

Since Wheeler felt sort of silly talking to Pixie while she was out cold, the scruffy haired young man sat in silence next to the long haired girl he'd befriended once upon a time. It seemed strange, to Wheeler at least, that the two of them had gone from just being two people who chatted with each other over their respective computers to being "better than best friends." Somehow that was more unbelievable than the fact he was living in a world where the human race was at war with machines that lived on the earth's surface.

"You couldn't have started that fight," he mumbled, after a time and even though he hadn't meant to say that out loud. "And you couldn't have gone insane either. I don't know what Hawk's game is but I know he's lying."

"You're right," a new voice pointed out, causing Wheeler to jump out of his skin. "That girl is not insane."

He'd been so focused on Pixie and the thoughts in his head that he failed to hear another set of boots enter the room. The young man felt the back of his neck and his ears start to prickle with the onset of an embarrassed blush. He wasn't sure why he was embarrassed--- It wasn't the first time he'd been caught off guard and it, certainly, wouldn't be his last. At least, it was in the Real World and not in the Matrix where his life was at stake. ---but he knew he was.

That embarrassment only grew when he looked up to notice who'd spoken to him.

Standing in the doorway of the _Shatterpoint_'s medical bay, looking a bit on the haggard side, was the infamous Trinity. Wheeler had never had the occasion to meet Trinity but he knew about her. She was something of a legend in the halls of the Academy and in the Officer's Mess Hall in Zion. Not only did he hear stories about her there, though. He's heard about Trinity from Pixie and those stories only served to make the tired looking woman standing in the doorway more frightening in Wheeler's mind.

"I'm sorry…" he stammered, suddenly sounding as if he was from the backwoods of Texas. "Do you want me to leave or something?"

Trinity gave the young man--- Alright, if pressed she might say he looked like a boy just like Pixie looked more like a girl than a young woman. ---a scrutinizing look. Who he was and where he'd come from were lost on Trinity. She'd never seen him before. At least not on the _Nebuchadnezzar_ or the _Logos_. That meant he was probably from the _Shatterpoint_, the other ship that had come to their rescue so to speak. Trinity wasn't exactly familiar with that crew except for the fact their captain was a Morpheus look alike.

"No, you can stay. She a friend of yours?" Trinity asked, checking on Tank.

That had been her reason for heading down to the _Shatterpoint_'s medical bay. She'd wanted to go and see how Tank was doing. With Pixie not exactly able to move as swiftly as she usually could--- thanks to Hawk and what he'd done to her ---Trinity had helped the medic-in-training and Morpheus stabilize their long time Operator. Though Pixie had remained "hopefully optimistic" about Tank's condition, Trinity knew she was trying to lie. His condition hadn't looked good from the start and being stuck in the cold hadn't helped any either.

"Yeah," Wheeler answered, still red in the ears. "She's a very good friend of mine."

Stepping away from Tank for a moment, Trinity walked over to the table where Pixie lay. Without even bothering to check if anyone was watching, she undid the restraints on Pixie's arms and legs. Much to Wheeler's surprise, she even tucked Pixie's arms under her head so they weren't hanging off of the table or stiff at her sides. Wheeler never had the occasion to see Pixie sleeping but he figured that she didn't sleep with her hands at her sides or hanging off of her bed. Putting them under her head just seemed more natural.

"Barriss said that I wasn't supposed to touch anything," Wheeler pointed out. "I'm almost sure that included those restraints."

Wheeler hadn't liked seeing Pixie pinned down just as Hawk had been on the _Nebuchadnezzar_ but he didn't want to annoy Barriss either. She'd said not to touch anything and he didn't want to get thrown out of the medical bay if she came by and found Pixie lying without the restraints to hold her down. Though, she did also say that Pixie showed no signs of a metal break so the restraints were unnecessary.

"Pixie didn't go insane and Hawk wasn't doing anyone any favors by stopping her," Trinity, firmly, pointed out as she headed back to where Tank lay. "The story Hawk's telling is far from the truth. Once she wakes up, we'll get the truth out of her."

"Why do you believe Pix over Hawk?" Wheeler asked, curiously.

"Because Pixie can't lie," Trinity answered. "Not to me and, certainly, not to Morpheus. I heard her story before the cold caught up to all of us and I heard Hawk's before we knocked him out again. She's not insane."

The scruffy looking young man looked at Pixie, still out from whatever she'd been given, and wondered just what had happened between her ship getting attacked and his ship finding them. It must have been something huge, though. Something he missed hearing about because of Depa and her dragging him around the _Shatterpoint_. Wheeler's only consolation was that Depa had missed hearing the story too. Maybe he'd get a chance to find out what happened when she did.

"I know. Thank you for taking those restraints off," Wheeler stated. "I'm Wheeler, by the way."

Trinity did a double take, suddenly finding that she knew who the boy sitting with Pixie was. Well, not "know" in the "met them" sense of the word. More like in the "heard of by word of mouth" definition of the word.

"You're that Wheeler," she pointed out. "Pixie's mentioned you once or twice."

"She has?" Wheeler asked, sounding mildly incredulous. "I hope she hasn't said anything bad."

Trinity gave the boy something that might have been a smile but wasn't really and answered, "She said that the two of you were close. That's all."

For Pixie, Wheeler knew saying something like that was a big deal. After all, it had taken Pixie a long time to start calling people "friends" instead of "allies." To admit that someone was "close" to her was a big deal for Pixie. Part of Wheeler understood why it was a big deal but there was always going to be a small part of him that thought it was strange. He'd never had a problem saying someone was his friend or anything like that. Then again, Pixie had come from a past that was very different from his own.

"She's one of my best friends," Wheeler, firmly, stated. "I'm glad she managed to make it out of whatever happened to you guys alive."

Trinity looked at the young man and pointed out, "I'm glad any of us made it out of that alive."

"That's true too," Wheeler pointed out, not really knowing what else to say.

He'd been glad that just Pixie had made it out of whatever happened--- which he still didn't know ---alive. Alright, he knew it was a good thing that the few people they'd found still alive were, just that, alive but Pixie was Pixie and she was special to him. That sort of counted more than the others in Wheeler's mind, no matter how wrong that sounded.

"You make sure you treat Pixie right," Trinity told Wheeler, going back to sit next to Tank for a while. "Otherwise you may find yourself answering to someone for it."

"I wouldn't dream of treating Pixie any other way, ma'am," Wheeler assured Trinity, getting the feeling that she was the someone Trinity was talking about was her. "I'm not Hawk."

"Good," Trinity stated, turning away from Wheeler.

Making sure not to disturb Pixie too much--- Since he wasn't entirely sure she wasn't sleeping ---Wheeler moved one of Pixie's arms out from under her head. Though his ears and neck were still a vivid shade of red, Wheeler sat and held Pixie's hand as she slept or wandered out of the drug induced fog she'd been in. He wasn't entirely sure which.

The young man wasn't sure how long he sat there or just how much time had passed before he felt the hand he was holding start to move in his own. Looking up a smile crossed Wheeler's face.

"Good morning, Pix," he mumbled, kissing the hand he was holding and allowing his smile to grow as Pixie began to blush. "Had a good sleep?"

Pixie blinked a few times, wondering just where she was. The last thing she remembered was burrowing into a large pile of blankets and clothes in an effort to get away from the cold and the ache in her back. She'd had little success in both those endeavors. It had been in that pile of blankets and clothing that she'd come to the realization that she was probably going to die. It hadn't been Hawk or Cypher of the Sentinels that were going to be the death of her. No, it was going to be the cold.

"Wheeler?" she asked, her voice thick from disuse. "What's going on?"

"I think that's what my captain wants to know, Pix," Wheeler answered. "Actually, I think that's what we'd all like to know."


	20. Bombshell

AN: Hiya everyone! Hope everyone's enjoying the end of December and all the fun stuff that brings! I'm actually done all of my Christmas shopping and it's not even December Twenty-Fourth yet! All I have to do now is wrap gifts and that's it! I've always liked Christmas and everything it brings….especially the books! I always ask for some crazy number of books for Christmas every year and I always get them It's just a little hard to explain why, after about a month or so, I've read all of them and need more books. Everyone in my family looks at me like I'm sort of crazy when I say that. It's not my fault….really! I just really happen to like to read. Hope you all have wonderful and happy holidays no matter what you celebrate! Anyway, thanks to everyone out there still reading this insane little story! You're all awesome for taking time out of your day to actually read this little misadventure. To everyone who's reviewed…you all rock like a box of socks!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Get up, get up, get up, drop the bombshell  
Get up, get up, this is out of control  
Get up, get up, get up, drop the bombshell  
Get up, get up, (get gone)…" (From "Bombshell" by Powerman 5000)

The young woman wasn't entirely sure how she'd gotten from the frozen bowels of her own ship and onto the ships she was currently on. What's more, she was totally and utterly confused by Wheeler's presence on the ship. Unless something major happened to his ship, last she'd heard from the once pitcher she considered her better than best friend, he was on the _Shatterpoint_. All Pixie could say for certain was that she was no longer on her own ship--- she'd spent a good deal of time hunkered down in the _Nebuchadnezza__r_'s medical bay with what remained of the crew she worked with--- in the familiar confines of the medical bay she assisted in.

This room was one she didn't recognize though she'd be the first to admit to not knowing anything about some of the other ships in the fleet. Her knowledge was limited to the ship she worked on and those that she'd visited. Other than that, her knowledge was extremely limited.

"Where are we?" Pixie asked, sounding more or less confused by everything around her. "This isn't my ship. It can't be."

"We're on my ship," Wheeler answered, still holding Pixie's hand. "The _Shatterpoint_. We were taking the _Logos_ back to Zion and we found your distress call. It's a good thing too because Barriss--- she's the medic on here--- said that all of you would have been as good as dead if we hadn't shown up when we did."

Pixie nodded her head as best she could given the fact she was still lying on her stomach. She'd suspected that hypothermia would be the cause of death for all of them if their ship wasn't found. Freezing to death was, supposedly, a peaceful way to die. At least, that's what one of her instructors at the Academy had said. He said that it was like slowing down, getting tired, and going to sleep. You just never woke up from said sleep. How he knew about that was beyond her and Pixie was almost sure she didn't want to know.

It might have been a peaceful way to go but Pixie didn't want any part of it. She didn't want to succumb to the cold and never be found. She didn't want to be another individual lost to the war they were fighting in. She didn't want to be remembered as a liar because she'd told Wheeler that, no matter what, all of them were going to see the end of the war together. They--- her, Wheeler, Aisling, Adoh, and Ngaio--- would all come through the war alright and she didn't want to have to break that promise to Wheeler.

"Hypothermia, right?" she asked, despite the fact she knew the answer already.

Wheeler nodded, holding her hand even tighter. The thought of losing Pixie to the cold made him almost physically ill. It hurt him in a way that he hadn't expected it to hurt. He figured that losing a friend would be painful--- even if they all knew that being killed was a danger they all had to face because of their job--- but he hadn't figured that just the thought of it would hurt him.

Then again, maybe it was because it was Pixie he was thinking about. Losing her, knowing that he'd never get to just talk to her again, was painful for him to consider. They'd "known" each other since before their freeing in that weird way hackers who chatted together knew each other. They weren't exactly friends but they weren't enemies either. Pixie had, once upon a time, called them "allies" and that seemed like the right word to use. They were just allies, working towards the same goal.

They'd all been lucky enough to achieve that goal and meet each other in Zion. Though, Wheeler was only still speaking to Chian and Pixie. The rest had gone their separate ways.

Wheeler opened his mouth to tell Pixie that, maybe, she should go to sleep. He figured that getting some real rest--- not that drugged sleep she'd been in--- might make her feel better. Besides, it would spare her from the questioning he was sure was in her future. Everyone would want to know the truth about what happened on the _Nebuchadnezzar_between her and Hawk. Well, maybe not the truth but Pixie's version of the story.

After all, as the old Matrix saying went, "There are three sides to every story…yours, mine, and the truth."

What he wanted to say died as Barriss walked into the medical bay. Wheeler suddenly felt like a kid who'd been caught with his hands in the cookie jar. After all, he was sitting there with Pixie who was no longer restrained despite the fact Barriss had said that she should remain in the restraints. He wasn't to touch them or even think about touching them in order to set Pixie free.

"Didn't I tell you to leave her restrained, Wheeler?" Barriss snapped, as she was tired since she'd been working hard all day. "How come she's not restrained anymore? Captain Mace is going to have my hide because of this. She's supposedly insane. What if she decided to take you hostage or something in her madness?"

"I'm not insane," Pixie pointed out, still speaking from her stomach. "Wheeler, how come I'm insane?"

"From what I heard, Hawk said you snapped on him and he had to fight to keep you from hurting him," Wheeler answered, speaking in a gentle sort of voice.

He might not have known the entire story but he knew that the part he was aware of was enough to make Pixie angry. He'd never, actually, seen Pixie get angry--- He'd seen her get very frustrated plenty of times though but never truly angry. ---but he figured that she was capable of getting angry just like everyone else. After all, she was human and humans got angry.

Wheeler assumed that if broke the news to her about the lies Hawk was trying to spread in a gently, kindly sort of way she wouldn't get angry. It was easier, he figured, to digest news like that if it didn't sound as bad as it actually was.

For a second, Wheeler thought his idea had worked. Pixie lay on her stomach with a puzzled expression on her face. It was almost as if she was replaying what he had told her in her mind in an effort to make sense of what was said.

It was sort of funny because Wheeler could actually see realization dawn on Pixie. Her face went from puzzled to aggravated in a matter of moments. She understood what he had said and even sugar coating it wasn't going to change how it sounded. There was nothing in the Real World that could do that.

"What?" Pixie blurted. "That's not true! That's not true at all! I never snapped and I know Hawk wasn't protecting himself. I didn't provoke Hawk at all!"

Pixie tried to get up, tried to swing her legs over the side of the bed so she could stand but found her body was sluggish and stiff. She wasn't feeling all that much pain from her back but she still couldn't move as easily as she was use to. She guessed that her back was still a mess of purplish-red bruises that went all the way to her bones. Well, she didn't have proof to substantiate the fact the bruises went to her bones but they hurt all the way down to her bones.

"Lie still," Barriss warned, her hands reaching under the table to find the restraints so she could tie Pixie down once again. "Otherwise I will have to tie you down again. It's bad enough your friend here decided to untie you."

"But I'm not insane," Pixie pleaded, not wanting to be restrained. "Hawk's nothing but a liar. He's not even remotely telling the truth about what happened. Talk to my captain, he'll tell you what happened. I told him before the cold got to all of us."

Sighing, Barriss pointed out, "It's not that we don't believe you, Pixie. It's just that our captain and the captain of the Logos don't want to take any chances. There was an awful lot of carnage on your ship and the story your captain's telling is a little hard to believe."

Though Pixie had been unconscious, she had a feeling she knew what story her captain was telling the others. It was a story that she, herself, was having a hard time buying into and she'd actually been a witness to the events. Maybe because she hadn't exactly been a believer in the whole idea of the One. If she'd been a believer, Pixie figured she might be more apt to understand what had happened. Since she wasn't--- not that she was an unbeliever either. It was more like she was just watching and waiting. ---it was just something she wasn't sure how to understand or explain. Neo had done many things she'd always figured were, basically, impossible within in the confines of the Matrix.

"Maybe," Wheeler broached, trying to keep Pixie from getting restrained once again. "We should take her to talk to Captains Mace and Niobe. Didn't you say Captain Mace wanted her awake so he could talk to her?"

Wheeler knew he was babbling and that he, probably, sounded a bit foolish but he was trying his best to help. He really didn't want to see Pixie get restrained again because he was sure she didn't want to be tied down. It was bad enough that she had to be tied down in her drug induced sleep and he had to see her that way. Seeing her awake and tied down, Wheeler assumed, was probably going to be that much worse.

Barriss looked thoughtful for a moment, tempted to leave and asked Luminari what she should do about Pixie. She often deferred to the older woman when she needed advice. Though Luminari did point out that she needed to learn to make decisions on her own instead of deferring to her. Barriss was trying, really, but there were just some decisions she felt she couldn't make on her own. The one she was faced with now seemed, to her, like one of those decisions.

The _Shatterpoint_'s medic sighed in relief as Depa, the _Shatterpoint_'s first mate, wandered into the ship's medical bay. She seemed to be looking for Wheeler, probably to drag him off on another day of menial jobs just to keep the former pitcher busy.

"Wheeler," Depa snapped, "where the devil have you been all night? You missed both your turns on watch and we had to scramble to find someone to cover for your lazy rear end. Were you in here with that little girlfriend of yours?"

"I said he could stay," Barriss spoke up before Wheeler had the chance to cut in and answer. "I told Captain Mace where he could find him, if he was needed. You shouldn't be so hard on Wheeler; he's just a kid."

"Barriss, I swear on all that's good and sacred in Zion, do not pull that with me. Wheeler knew what he was getting into when he took this job, probably same as his little girlfriend. He knew the risks to himself and to his friends. He shouldn't be acting all moony eyed just because his girlfriend's hurt," Depa snapped, making Barriss turn an embarrassed shade of red.

The _Shatterpoint_'s medic stepped back, almost trying to flatten herself against the wall, allowing Depa to stalk over to where Wheeler sat with Pixie. Wheeler wanted to look tough in front of Pixie--- no matter how silly that sounded ---but in the face of a raging Depa, Wheeler quailed. He slid the chair he was sitting on back as far as he could without pulling Pixie's arm off in a vain effort to escape her rage.

"And she's not restrained," Depa commented, with an almost manic sounding laugh. "Captain Mace is going to love this one. Not only has Mr. Baseball Player skipped his shifts but he took of a potentially mentally unstable person's restraints."

Rounding on the young man, she added, "Good job Wheeler! What are you going to do for your next act? Maybe set her loose and see how many of us she kills? Like she did on her ship before Hawk stopped her?"

"That….that wasn't me!" Pixie stammered, knowing she should have tried to sound more forceful but finding that she couldn't. "I didn't kill anyone! Tank….Tank said it was Cypher. Trinity said the same thing. It wasn't me."

"Pixie would never do anything like that," Wheeler added, backing Pixie up. "She doesn't like killing. She even carries a tranquilizer gun with her in the Matrix so she doesn't have to do that kind of thing."

Depa glared at Wheeler, pointing out, "You would say something like that. She's your friend, after all. What we need is an impartial judge and jury here. Not her little boyfriend."

"Barriss," the _Shatterpoint_'s first mate snapped, making the ship's medic jump. "Is this young lady fit to travel or does she have to stay here?"

Wheeler almost hoped that Barriss would say that Pixie had to stay in the medical bay, even for a few more hours. If Depa, who, like him, hadn't heard the story about what happened on the _Nebuchadnezza__r_ the first time it had been told, was convinced that Pixie had done something terrible to the crew she worked with, Wheeler couldn't imagine what the rest of his crew thought about her. He'd known Hawk was good at bluffing--- they'd played enough hands of cards together when they were all in the orphanage way back when ---but for him to get everyone to believe an outright lie, well, he must have gotten a whole lot better at it.

"She's fine," Barriss answered, a note of fear in her voice. "She'll need help walking but she's otherwise alright. We don't know if the attack left her with long term back problems, though."

Pixie tried to hide it but Wheeler caught her worried expression when she heard Barriss mention long term problems. He squeezed her hand hoping that would reassure her in some small way. He knew about her past in the Matrix and the "long term" health issues she had there. Of course a bad back might pale in comparison to nearly dying but he knew the idea of having some kind of problem would be the same for Pixie.

She'd always said that one of the first things she learned to love about the Real World was the fact she was healthy. The idea of that being changed, Wheeler decided, must have driven her crazy.

"Well her 'long term' home may be the stockade in Zion," Depa threatened, nearly yanking Pixie to a vertical base. "They can deal with all her health issues there. For now, we're just interested in getting the truth out of her."

"But I really didn't do anything," Pixie protested as she tried to balance herself and found that most of her muscles were unwilling to help her in that respect. "I wasn't even in the Core of the _Nebuchadnezza__r_ today. I was down in the medical bay with Hawk. You can ask him that."

"He said you were in the medical bay with him and that you had your little mental breakdown there," Depa countered. "He said that he tried to fight you to stop you but you subdued him and went on to attack the Core."

"How does he know that?" Pixie wanted to know, trying to figure out how to walk. "He was out cold. If I knocked him out, then he couldn't have known what I did next."

Pixie knew that saying that was just a little incriminating but it was her best defense. Though the only person who could vouch for her never being in the core was Tank and it seemed like he was still unconscious, Pixie could only hope that Morpheus and Trinity--- especially Trinity, since she was the one who'd found her in the medical bay ---could back her up. She was banking on the fact they were pretty big names within the resistance and that could help her really poor excuse.

"That's what we'd all like to know," Depa said in her most menacing tone. "We'd all like to know what happened after you tied Hawk down."


	21. These Words

AN: HAPPY 2008 EVERYONE! Hope 2008 is great for everyone and everyone keeps their resolutions--- or revolutions if you're one of the little kids in my Daisy Troop. They make "New Year Revolutions" instead of resolutions. ---for the new year. Yes, I made a resolution…I just hope I can keep it. Part of it is contingent on getting the grades from my Master's Exam (that I took last June) but I have no control over when I get those. Though, I'm seriously considering calling either the school or my advisor to find out what in the world is going on there! I've been worrying about those darn grades since I took the exam! Anywho, thanks to everyone who's still reading this little misadventure. I'm surprised anyone actually does read this mess of a story. To anyone who's left me a review, thanks for letting me know how I'm doing. Remember, I'm open to any opinions…good, bad, or indifferent!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"I try to focus my attention  
But I feel so A-D-D  
I need some help, some inspiration  
(But it's not coming easily)…" (From "These Words" by Natasha Bedingfield)

"Now, go through this with us, Pixie," Niobe stated, fixing Pixie with her sternest glare. "What happened on the _Nebuchadnezzar_after Hawk confronted you in the medical bay? I'm sure you've heard what he said about you."

Even from his place in the doorway--- where he'd been banished to. Captain Mace had said he wasn't allowed to have any further contact with the potentially insane young woman. ---Wheeler could see that Pixie was absolutely terrified. Not that he blamed her for looking as afraid as she looked. After all, if their roles had been reversed, and he was the one sitting there, he'd be scared out of his wits too. It couldn't have been easy, sitting under the combined gazes of Mace, Depa, Niobe, and Ghost.

Pixie looked around, trying to figure out just why she was alone in the room. Her crew, what was left of it anyway, wasn't present. She was alone in the room, facing the stern gazes of two other captains and their first mates. Wheeler was standing outside, along with Chian, but that was of no help to her. They weren't allowed to say anything and, besides, Chian had heard Hawk's story. Pixie could only hope that, like Wheeler, Chian believed that she wasn't insane.

"Luminari," Mace called, turning his attention away from Pixie for a brief moment. "Who's watching Hawk right now?"

The tattooed woman, without missing a beat, answered, "At the moment, I do believe that Sparks and Haruun have their eyes on the young man."

"Haruun worked extra shifts last night covering for Mr. I'm-Too-Busy-For-Work-Beacause-I'm-Keeping-Watch-On-My-Girlfriend," Mace quipped. "Luminari, Wheeler will be responsible for keeping an eye on Hawk for the rest of the day."

The tattooed woman nodded her head and took Wheeler's elbow in her hand. With a sorry look on her face, she led Hawk down the hall and away from where Pixie was seated. She knew full well that he wanted to stay there with her but going against Mace wasn't the most intelligent thing to do. Wheeler would only suffer more if he protested do Luminari didn't give him the chance to. She just led the young man away towards the room they were keeping Hawk in.

"Chian," Niobe shouted, speaking to the female from her ship. "Go relieve Sparks."

"But captain," Chian protested. "I'd like to hear Pixie's side of the story. "

"Chian," Niobe repeated. "Just go. That's an order."

Pixie heard Chian mumble something under her breath but she couldn't properly make out what she said. Still, no matter what she said, Chian too wandered away from the _Shatterpoint_'s mess hall.

The young woman, bruised and tired as she was, looked around the room and sighed. It struck as odd that no one from her own crew was in the room to back her up. Well, maybe not back her up because there were things they'd never be able to vouch for since they weren't there. They hadn't heard the exchanged she'd over heard nor had they heard what was said when she confronted Hawk. They weren't there for the fight or for the beating he tried to give her. Actually, the beating he did give her considering that her back was as sore as it was, despite the fact she knew she was on a normal course of pain medication.

Still, despite the fact there were things they'd never know and things she'd never know about--- After all, she hadn't a clue about what had happened when Trinity and Neo went back into the Matrix other than they fact the impossible was done several times over. ---Pixie knew it would have been nice to have them there just for back up. The fact they weren't there, the fact that she was sitting in front of two captains and their first mates without what was left of her own crew behind her, made Pixie think this was a set up of some kind. She wasn't sure what kind of set up but she was starting to think it was a set up.

Part of the young woman assumed that Hawk had a big part to play in why the meeting was being held without anyone to side with her. Whatever story he'd told to make them think she was guilty must have been a good one. She almost felt like they were there to tell her why she was guilty instead of allowing her a chance to allow her to explain her side of the story.

"You've heard what Hawk said, correct?" Mace asked. "He has painted a very….interesting picture….of what occurred between the two of you in the _Nebuchadnezzar_'s medical bay."

Pixie looked at the dark skinned, male captain and shook her head. Wheeler had been correct, though. Mace was really a dead ringer for her own captain. They both had the same, general, build and appearance except something was missing. Pixie didn't know Mace well--- This was, actually, her first time even seeing the man. ---but she just had a feeling that there was something about Mace that made him not like her captain. Maybe it was just Wheeler's stories influencing her and how she saw his captain.

Sort of the same, Pixie figured, could be said about how she felt about the other captain on the ship but on a much grander scale. Niobe was like Morpheus in that she was a rather infamous figure in and around Zion. That might have had something to do with her past relationship with Morpheus or her current on with Jason Lock but Pixie wasn't entirely sure. Either way, she, too, was an intimidating figure for Pixie to face.

"I actually haven't sir," she, softly, answered; half wishing that Wheeler was still lurking in the doorway. "I've only heard parts of it from Depa and Wheeler. I'm not entirely sure what he is accusing me of."

A few moments of silence passed as the two captains and their first mates talked amongst themselves, leaving Pixie to sit across from them and stare. Well, stare and try not to fidget as she waited. She'd never gotten into much trouble with the law in the Matrix and in Zion but she decided that she now knew what a criminal felt like as they waited to hear what they'd been charged with doing or what their ultimate fate was going to be after they'd been convicted.

"In short," Mace started. "Hawk says that you had some type of psychotic break while on the ship with him, Tank, and Dozer. You managed to kill Dozer and immobilize Tank before Hawk got to you. You tried to stop him but he disarmed you and managed to get you down to the medical bay in the hopes of stopping your rampage. You attacked him and there was a scuffle, which is how you got injured. You somehow managed to subdue Hawk instead."

Ignoring Pixie's clearly shocked expression, he added, "Though he was unconscious, Hawk speculates that you managed to get back to the Core, despite your injuries, in order to try and finish what you'd started."

Pixie blinked a few times, her drug addled mind still working on processing what she'd been told. Once she realized what was being implied, her eyes went wide and her expression turned from one of confusion to one of totally shock. It was almost as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. What's more, she couldn't believe they'd actually believe that story.

"But that was Cypher that attacked Tank, Dozer, and the others. I was in the medical bay with Hawk the entire time," Pixie blurted. "You can ask Trinity. She was the one who found me in the medical bay."

"How do we know," Depa cut in. "That you didn't go from the Core back to the medical bay when it became clear to you that your plan wasn't going to work?"

"I could barely move after the fight I had with Hawk," Pixie answered, speaking to the table instead of looking the others in the eye. "Once the adrenaline wore off, I wasn't exactly able to move."

The young woman knew not looking the others in the eye was a bad move--- even in Zion it still meant being dishonest ---but she couldn't help it. Pixie never really looked people in the eyes if she could help it. Having to look directly at people just made her feel uncomfortable for some reason. Well, more uncomfortable than she usually felt when having to speak in front of people.

Thinking she should say something more, Pixie added, "I really didn't do anything. I know that our working conditions are stressful and I know that some individuals that do our jobs experience psychotic episodes because of it but I'm not one of them."

"An insane person would be the last to admit he or she is insane," Ghost pointed out, speaking softly but making sure everyone, including Pixie, heard him.

"But I'm not insane!" the young woman protested. "I wouldn't do anything to hurt anyone. I don't even like the idea of hurting someone. I took the medic's oath to uphold life not to end it, if I can help it."

"Chian said the same thing," Niobe said. "She said that you couldn't have done those things because it wasn't in your character."

"And you're listening to one of your junior crewmates instead of me?" Mace snapped. "I know you and Morpheus were once and item but listen to reason…not to some kid."

"That would be like you listening to Wheeler, sir," Depa interjected. "And listening to a junior crewmate like him is not a good idea. He doesn't have the experience that we do in order to make a good decision."

"Well put," Mace complimented, turning back to Niobe. "Chian may not be as young as Wheeler but she, certainly, isn't as experienced as you and I. Her opinion shouldn't matter when it comes to these kinds of decisions."

Pixie fought the urge to smile. At least someone outside of her own crew believed her. If Chian didn't buy Hawk's tall tale then, maybe, it was possible to get others to believe her side of the story. The way Mace and Depa--- especially Depa for some reason ---were looking at her, though, Pixie was sure it was going to be a long, uphill battle.

While Pixie faced her firing squad, Wheeler was dragging his feet as Luminari walked him away from the _Shatterpoint_'s mess hall and down towards the dormitories, as Elan called them. He guessed that Hawk was being kept in one of the smaller extra rooms the ship had. After all, newly unplugged people had to sleep somewhere before they were "dumped off---" Mace's term ----in Zion.

"And where were you last night?" Haruun asked as Wheeler approached the only open door along the catwalked hallway.

With a frustrated sigh--- he really would have rather been sitting with Pixie instead of babysitting Hawk. ---Wheeler took stock of the situation. Hawk was inside the small spare bedroom, lounging on the bed with his hands behind his head and a content smile on his face. He almost looked like the cat who'd eaten the canary but that might have just been because Wheeler really didn't like Hawk and that dislike was being furthered by the story he was telling about Pixie.

Outside the door, like two tired sentries, sat Sparks and Haruun. Though the two were remarkably different looking--- Haruun, the _Shatterpoint_'s operator, was a short, dark skinned older man who always seemed to be tired except for when he was working. Sparks was fair skinned, though Wheeler remembered someone saying that he looked gray, and taller than Haruun. He also didn't exactly like the type to be tired except for when he was operating. ---they both looked as if they'd had better days. Wheeler didn't blame them. Babysitting a prisoner, or a suspected on anyway, didn't exactly seem like a good time.

"He was with his girlfriend," Sparks laughed, "Don't know what that boy was doing, though, since his little Pix was asleep."

"Sparks!" Chian admonished, as she caught up with Wheeler and Luminari. "Leave Wheeler alone. He was worried about Pixie. I think it's kind of cute."

Chian looped her arm around Wheeler's shoulder, shooting Sparks a smile. Wheeler shook his head and Sparks laughed. The younger male wasn't exactly sure Chian was saying everything she meant. Where Chian was concerned, there was always subtext behind the subtext. She never said everything she meant, preferring to wink or smile to give hints on what she was talking about.

Most of the time, Wheeler was clueless as to the meaning behind Chian's little gestures and he figured that was a good thing. There were definitely times when he didn't want to know what Chian was trying to hint at. Nothing against Chian, of course, since she was a friend of his, but he often wondered just where her mind was. As his mother, or the woman the Matrix said was his mother, often stated "There are just some people's minds that are just in the gutter."

He knew his mother had meant it about people outside their small town and only those people. Wheeler often wondered, though, if Chian should be included in that group.

"Are you here to relieve us?" Haruun asked, bringing the conversation back to its main point.

"Yeah," Wheeler, dejected, replied. "Captain Mace said that I'll be spending my day down here. Probably punishment for not working last night."

"You know the rules, Wheeler," Luminari reminded him, as she headed back up the hallway with Sparks and Haruun. "If one fails to work…"

"One must accept the consequences," Wheeler finished, "I know but, still, I want to know what Hawk said too."

"Even if he's nothing but a liar," Chian stated, plunking down in the chair that Sparks had vacated. "I told my captain that he's lying but she still insists on hearing Pixie's side of the story."

Wheeler sighed and sat down in the chair Haruun had been sitting in. A frown crossed his face as he thought of Pixie sitting in the mess hall facing two captains and two first mates by herself. He wondered where her own captain and first mate had gotten too. It seemed, to him anyway, that they should be in there with her, backing her up even if they didn't know the entire truth behind Pixie's story.

"What are you doing in there anyway, Hawk?" Chian asked. "Having a good laugh now that you got Pixie into trouble?"

Hawk was silent for a few long moments, making Wheeler think that he was busy ignoring the two of them. He didn't think Hawk was above doing something like that anyway. After all, Wheeler had seen Hawk avoid him and Pixie after the fight he'd started in the Academy's lunchroom one upon a time. Avoidance and ignoring seemed to be just two steps away from each other anyway.

After a whole lot of noise, mostly the obligatory groaning and the dragging of feet, Hawk appeared in the doorway. He leaned against the frame, arms crossed over his chest. Wheeler could see that he'd suffered from exposure just like everyone else on the _Nebuchadnezzar_. His face still had patches of red all over it from his time in the cold air.

"Who says she's not the one who's up there telling lies, Chian?" Hawk challenged, though his tone was as relaxed as his posture. "Just because she's your friend doesn't mean she's telling the truth. People lie, you know."

Chian turned herself sideways, facing Hawk and shaking her head. She'd never liked Hawk, despite the fact she didn't really know him. They'd only spoken a few times during their shared time in the Orphanage--- Hawk having come out of the Matrix just before Pixie and the lot of them being together as they waited to be adopted. ---and she hadn't liked him from the start. Something about the way he spoke or acted around Pixie made Chian dislike him.

Then she'd gotten wind about the fight, about what Hawk had said to and about Pixie. That had just made Chian angrier at Hawk.

"Pixie can't lie," Chain snapped. "You know that and I know that. Besides, why in the world would Pixie turn on her crew?"

"Because that's what crazy people do. They snap and they turn on those closest to them," Hawk countered, still leaning against the doorframe. "It's no wonder she tried to turn on me too."

"Since when are you and Pix close?" Wheeler asked, leaning back in his chair to look at Hawk. "Last I heard from her, she tries to avoid you like the plague."

"She would tell you that," Hawk answered. "I guess she wanted to spare you the details of our relationship. You may think Pixie Sticks is a nice, wholesome girl but she's got a freak inside her. You would not believe some of the stuff she and I have done while in the Core together."

Moving away from the door frame, Hawk nudged Wheeler's shoulder and added, "Let me tell you, we were supposed to be watching the code but that so didn't happen. I kept her busy doing other things, if you know what I mean."

Wheeler stood, moving the chair he'd been sitting on. He stepped back a few paces and looked Hawk in the eye.

"You shouldn't talk about a lady like that," he pointed out. "Especially when we all know that it's not true."

Chain, who'd moved her chair back away from the two young men, almost wanted to laugh. For all their futuristic surroundings, Wheeler still held on to his "old fashioned" sensibilities. He still insisted that all women, no matter who they were or how young they were, had to be treated with a certain kind of respect. Those in Zion who insisted that chivalry had died with the surface of the earth only had to look at Wheeler. He still acted in a respectful manner when it came to all females.

The older female--- older than the two young men anyway ---really didn't want to get involved if the two of them started something. As a matter of fact, she was interested in seeing what Wheeler would do if Hawk pushed him. No one had really seen Wheeler get angry, after all.

"What do you know about Pixie Sticks?" Hawk challenged, closing the distance between him and Wheeler. "You're not the one with her all day, every day. I am and you know, those nights on the ship can get very cold and lonely."

"I think I know Pixie a little better than you do and I know she'd never do something like that with you," Wheeler snapped, fighting against Hawk's goading. "Even if she was cold and lonely, she'd never do anything with you."

Hawk shook his head, giving Wheeler an almost pitying look. Chian, watching things unfold, was almost sure that Hawk had something worse to say. He'd always tried to goad Wheeler into doing or saying something to him but Wheeler, much to his credit, had never taken the bait. No, the former pitcher had always stared at Hawk with an annoyed look on his face but always went about his business. She could see Wheeler trying to stay calm now but it, clearly, wasn't working for him. Hawk was getting to him and he knew that fact.

Hawk shrugged and, with his typical nonchalant attitude, started to describe what he claimed was his last…encounter…with Pixie. Even Chian, who was older than both young men by a handful of years and who was bothered by very little when it came to words, felt her face turn an unsightly shade of red at what Hawk was saying.

Chian could only imagine what Wheeler was thinking as he stood there listening to what Hawk was saying about his better than best friend. Whatever he was thinking, she was almost sure it wasn't calm. Wheeler was shaking with what seemed to be barely contained anger.


	22. Headstrong

AN: Hiya everyone! Things haven't exactly been great where it relates to Real World stuff for me. I did get one bit of good news though…just one small thing to be really excited about. After months and months of really painful waiting, I finally got the results of my Masters Exam. I'm glad to say that I've passed my Masters Exam! I now, officially, have a Masters in Biology! I have yet to actually celebrate getting my Masters but, still, I'm excited! Hope everything is going better for all of you out there! If they're not, well, keep your head up. Things have to get better! Anyway, thanks to everyone out there still reading this mess of a story. I appreciate you taking time out of your day to read my little misadventure. To anyone who's been kind enough to leave me a review, you rock like a box of socks. Remember, I'm open to any opinions…good, bad, or indifferent!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and in graduate school studying biology. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Circling your, circling your, circling your head, Contemplating everything you ever said  
Now I see the truth, I got doubt  
A different motive in your eyes and now I'm out  
See you laterI see your fantasy, You want to make it a reality paved in gold  
See inside, Inside of our heads (yeah)  
Well now that's over  
I see your motives inside, decisions to hide  
Back off I'll take you on  
Headstrong to take on anyone  
I know that you are wrong  
Headstrong we're Headstrong  
Back off I'll take you on  
Headstrong to take on anyone  
I know that you are wrong and this is not where you belong…" (From "Headstrong" by Trapt)

Wheeler had, really, been trying not to get annoyed by what Hawk was saying about him and Pixie. The last thing he wanted to do was allow a liar like Hawk to get to him. In his heart, heat, and gut--- for the first time, all three were in agreement on something. Wheeler, usually, couldn't get the three to agree on anything. ---he knew Hawk was just trying to provoke him. Hawk was a known liar. Worse still, it was a liar with a chip on his shoulder and a very high opinion of himself.

The once baseball player was almost sure that Hawk was trying to provoke him because he was jealous. Aisling, one of their friends, had said that Hawk had always had a "thing" for Pixie. It wasn't that he liked her in a crush sort of way or anything like that, according to Aisling. It was more like he wanted her to date him because he didn't want anyone else to date her instead.

It had something to do with possession or something like that. Wheeler wasn't entirely sure of the finer points of the whole thing. He'd always thought that Aisling was just making things up--- not that he'd ever say that to her. No, Aisling was a nice enough person but she could be downright mean when she wanted to be. ---just to make Pixie blush.

Now, though, Wheeler was starting to think otherwise. There might have just been some truth to what Aisling had always said. Hawk was jealous that Pixie had chosen Wheeler over him. That was why he was spouting off the terrible things he was. He was just trying to get Wheeler angry with him. Angry enough that he'd break up with Pixie so she could profess her love for Hawk or something like that.

He really hadn't wanted to show Hawk that he was getting to him. Wheeler had never shown a reaction to Hawk and was planning on never showing one to him. A competitor by nature--- What baseball player wasn't? ---Wheeler didn't want to lose to Hawk by showing him that he was getting on his nerves. It had become a battle of wills between them and, in his mind; Wheeler had always done well in it. He'd always managed to calm himself down so that his face remained passive and cool.

The more Hawk talked, though, the more Wheeler felt himself shake. He was trying to swallow his anger, send it back to that place in the pit of his stomach where it seemed to start from, but it just wasn't working. Hawk's words were like Morpheus' infamous splinter in one's mind and, like said splinter, they were driving him mad. He couldn't ignore the words because they were ringing inside his skull.

"Hawk," Chian yelled. "Can you please shut your mouth?"

"Why, Chian?" Hawk countered, pausing his vile narrative for a moment. "You don't like hearing the truth either. I thought you were one of those people who liked hearing about those kinds of things."

"Hawk, if you don't shut your mouth, I'm almost sure you're not going to like what's going to happen," Chian pointed out. "I really think it's in your best interest to keep quiet."

Rounding on Wheeler, wicked grin plastered on his face, Hawk stated, "What? Mr. Baseball doesn't like hearing all the things his special friend does?"

"I know you're lying, Hawk," Wheeler stated, sounding more angry than firm. "I know Pix better than you ever could and I know she wouldn't do anything like that."

"Are you sure about that one, Wheels?" Hawk challenged. "Can you say for certain that Pixie Sticks isn't a bad little girl when you're not around? Maybe she's just putting you on?"

A thoughtful--- as thoughtful as Hawk could look anyway ---look crossed his face and Hawk added, "Maybe, she just doesn't want to do those things with you. You ever think of that one, Wheels?"

Wheeler had, really, been trying to hold everything in. He'd been desperately trying to hold himself in check but it wasn't working. Actually, and more to the point, it was way past the point of working. No matter how much he tried to calm himself down, no matter how firmly he told himself that Hawk was just being a jealous moron, Wheeler just couldn't fight back against the anger he was feeling.

At least he was still able to resist the urge to take a swing at Hawk. That had to count for something, in Wheeler's mind. After all words and actions were two totally different things and words could be just as painful as physical blows anyway.

"Look," Wheeler started, stepping within inches of Hawk's face. "You don't know anything. I get that you have a creepy thing for Pix but I know that she'd never do anything with a lowlife, dishonest, no good creep like you. Even if she was desperate or lonely or whatever you claim she was when you two 'got together' she'd still never do anything with you. You're just a little boy, Hawk, and you really need to grow up."

"Who are you talking about growing up, Wheels?" Hawk countered his voice full of venom. "You're the one who's still hanging on to his past. You should grow up too."

A confused look crossed Wheeler's face but disappeared after a brief moment. He had no idea what Hawk was talking about.

"What are you going on about now Hawk?" Wheeler wanted to know, his tone half amused, half angry.

Hawk frowned, upset that his point--- and he thought it was a good point too ---had been missed and answered, "You're the one hanging on to all your old Matrix ideas. Man, this is the future and you'd better get with it. That whole 'gentleman' thing doesn't work here. Get with the program, Wheels. Girls are made to be used."

A smug look fixing itself on Hawk's face as he added, "Girls like Pixie have only one use. Once they're done with that use, Wheels, you toss them aside like the trash they are. When are you going to wake up and see that fact? She's not worth the hair on her head."

Wheeler looked particularly angry, making Hawk smile and finish, "She's nothing more than a clingy little girl…just a walking brain. She's only fun for a little while then you have to throw her aside. That's just what you do with girls like her and if they come crawling back, well, you give them what they want and you take what you want from them and then you cut them back off again."

"That's where you have it wrong," Wheeler stated, through gritted teeth. "That's how I know you don't know anything about Pixie. You only pretend to know so you feel important. If any of us need to grow up, Hawk, it's you."

The former pitcher could never say for certain just what made Hawk jump at him like he did. All he knew was that one minute he was turning back to sit next to Chian and play guard for the day and the next he felt himself being tackled from the back. Tackled as in knocked to the ground, not just being jumped from behind.

Wheeler put his hands down at the last moment, keeping his face from meeting the unforgiving grating that made up the floor of the _Shatterpoint_. It took him a few seconds to realize just what had happened. Sure, he felt Hawk jump him but he couldn't believe that he'd do something like that. Wheeler didn't think that Hawk had the guts to do something like that.

"What are you going to do, Mr. Baseball?" Hawk asked, getting off of Wheeler's back and allowing the other young man to get to his feet.

"Nothing," Wheeler countered. "I'm not going to do anything. I don't want to play this game, Hawk. Just go back in there and I won't…"

"Won't what?" Hawk countered. "Won't go running back to your captain and tell him what I did?"

Wearing a wicked grin and not bothering to wait for Wheeler to say something, Hawk swung at the once pitcher. Wheeler moved back, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away from Hawk's flailing punch.

Wheeler was trying to get his balance back when Hawk swung at him again. This time, though, the blow landed squarely against Wheeler's jaw. The once pitcher's teeth rattled in his head and his vision exploded with stars for a brief moment as his brain registered the blow. He hadn't been expecting the tackle and, now, Wheeler really hadn't been anticipating him being hit.

He staggered back a few steps and looked dazed for all of a moment. Where a normal person might have decided to rub the injured spot, Wheeler took a page out of his old baseball handbook. It was always said that if you were hit by a pitch, you should never give the pitcher the benefit of showing them just how much it hurt. Though he'd never hit anyone--- on purpose anyway. Wheeler had never been a "headhunter" unlike some pitcher. ---Wheeler had been hit a fair few times. He'd never stooped so low as to show anyone how hurt he'd been.

He wasn't about to do the same now.

Though his jaw was throbbing--- Hawk had a stronger punch than Wheeler had been expecting, truthfully. ---Wheeler faced Hawk with a determined look on his face. He wasn't angry, per say. No, he was more shocked by what Hawk had said about Pixie and what he'd just done. Wheeler really hadn't wanted to play into Hawk's hands by stooping to his, obviously, low level but he was starting to see that he had no choice. The only way to get Hawk to understand, to force him to see that he was thinking the wrong things, was to stoop to his level.

Wheeler looked at Hawk, who had a smile plastered on his slightly bruised face, and swung at him. Hawk, caught off guard by the fact Wheeler had reacted as fast as he had, couldn't dodge the blow. Instead, his already broken nose--- How his nose had wound up broken was the topic of much debate on the _Shatterpoint_. ---too the full force of the blow. Blood spurted from his nose, flowing down his chin in a disgusting imitation of a waterfall.

The two boys continued to trade blows and insults, shouting at each other so loudly that it managed to draw the attention of the others on the ship. The metal walls that surrounded them did little to muffle the sounds of their fighting. Instead, the sounds echoed down the corridors, bouncing around nearly the entire length and breadth of the craft.

It took Pixie longer than the others when it came to reaching the source of all the commotion. She limped and crept her way along the unfamiliar hallways of the _Shatterpoint_, following Ghost towards the source of the shouting. Once the shouting started, she'd been told by Mace to stay put while they all went to check it out.

That had worked for a split second. Pixie, in her infinite wisdom, decided to follow the group. Both voices were familiar to her. Well, they sounded like the voices of people she knew to her anyway. Pixie was almost sure that she could be wrong about that one, since her mind was still just a little addled from whatever she'd been given to dull the pain in her back, but there was the chance she was right. If she was right about the owners of the voices, then something bad had definitely happened.

After all, for as long as she'd known the owner of one of the voices, Pixie had never heard him raise his voice to anyone. For him to yell like that--- and to say some of the things she'd heard ---something bad must have happened.

"Chian," Niobe admonished, looking at the female member of her crew. "why didn't you stop these two before they beat each other senseless?"

"I wouldn't say 'senseless,' ma'am," Chian countered. "Wheeler's still standing. Hawk on the other hand…"

Niobe cut Chian's narrative off with a stern look and repeated. "Why didn't you stop these two, Chian?"

"I wasn't getting in between these two, ma'am." Chian answered. "They obviously have some issues that had to be worked out. Figured it was best just to let them get on with it."

Pixie maneuvered herself into a smallish space so she could see just what had happened between Hawk and Wheeler. She'd been standing at the back of the crowd--- it wasn't as if it was a large group either. It was more like there were too many people in a tight space. ---trying to peer over the heads of everyone else. When that didn't work, since she couldn't stand on her toes and she was short to begin with, Pixie decided to insinuate herself into the gathered group.

What she saw nearly knocked her off of her boot covered feet. Hawk was half sitting, half slumped against one of the hallway's walls, a pout evident on his face. He held his sleeve, which was fairly covered in blood, to his nose and his eyes were already re-bruising. Pixie assumed that Wheeler had either aggravated or had rebroken Hawk's healing nose. A nose she'd broken herself during the fight she'd had with Hawk, much to her surprise. She hadn't thought that she was strong enough to do something like that.

Against the opposite wall, still standing and with his arm crossed over his chest, was Wheeler. The other young man seemed to be in relatively good shape, as far as Pixie could tell. Aside from a large red spot--- that was sure to become a bruise in a few days ---along his jaw, Wheeler looked no worse for wear. Actually, he looked as if he couldn't decide if he was annoyed or embarrassed by whatever had gone down in the hallway.

"Oh good…finally, you're here," Hawk started, his voice nasal sounding. "This one started with me. Jumped me when I was just trying to go back to my room."

"Hawk, don't even try to lie this time," Chian blurted, exasperated. "I was sitting right here. I saw you jump Wheeler from behind, not the other way around. You were the one who took a swing at Wheeler. Wheeler didn't even do anything to you."

"Well, he hit me too," Hawk retorted. "Just like his insane little girlfriend over here. What did you do, Pixie Sticks? Put him up to hitting me? You use your insanity to convince him to do this?"

Pixie felt her face turn a bright shade of red, though she wasn't sure if she was embarrassed or frustrated by the situation. She figured it might have been a little of both by now.

"I thought I told you to wait for us in the mess hall, Pixie," admonished Mace, glaring down at the young woman.

Before Pixie could manage to stammer out an answer--- Wheeler had been very right when he said Mace was a menacing figure when he wanted to be. ---she was interrupted by a deep voiced individual stating, "Captain Mace, you were questioning my medic without my first mate or myself present? Were you even going to tell us that she was awake?"

Pixie craned her neck around and felt a smile creep onto her face. Standing at the end of the hallway was what was left of the crew of the _Nebuchadnezzar_. Pixie hadn't a clue where they'd come from or why they were standing there and not down with the rest of them. She was just glad to see that they'd made it out alive too.

"Captain, sir," she shouted, as Pixie meandered up the hallway. "Trinity, Neo! I'm glad to see you're alright."

Morpheus, once Pixie had managed to make her way up the hallway again, put one of his large hands on Pixie's narrow shoulder and said, "I'm very glad to see you're alright as well, Pixie."

Though they'd lost a few of their members, Pixie felt distinctly better now that she was standing with the crew she normally worked with. Most of it anyway seeing as how Tank was still unconscious in the _Shatterpoint_'s medical bay and Hawk looked like he'd met the wrong end of a fastball to the face. At least these individuals didn't think she was insane. They didn't think she'd snapped and that Hawk was playing the hero by trying to "stop" her rampage.

The lot of them might not have been present for the fight but Pixie figured they knew she wasn't lying. She had no reason to lie to them and, besides, even she was aware of the fact she was a lousy liar. They'd know, right away, if she was lying to them.

"Mace, Niobe," Morpheus stated. "Why were you questioning my medic without telling any of us?"

"Because, Morpheus," Mace retorted. "It's obvious that something did happen. With the absence of anyone at fault, the council is going to need someone to blame for this mess."

"You were going to pin this mess on Pixie," Trinity blurted. "Pixie had nothing to do with this mess. You want someone to blame, blame Cypher. This whole mess is his fault."

"We can place blame for that situation later," Niobe snapped, gesturing towards the two boys glaring at each other from across the narrow hallway. "This mess should be easier to sort out first."


	23. Youth

AN: Hiya everyone! It's almost time for the most wonderful time of the year. No, not Christmas! It's almost time for Spring Training to start. I'm a big baseball fan--- the New York Mets, no matter how awful they are ---so the start of Spring Training's become kind of a big deal. It means that, in a few months, I'll be spending almost every Sunday at Shea Stadium. Whether or not that's a good thing remains to be seen. That all depends on how the team is doing. I always like going to the stadium just a bit more when they decide to win. Going when they lose makes me feel like I should be paid for watching them instead of the other way around. Why? Because the Mets always seem to find the most spectacular ways to lose. I mean, ways that amaze even the baseball announcers and sports broadcasters here in New York. Anyway, enough about the impending baseball season! Thanks to everyone out there still reading this mess of a story! I promise that it'll get better soon! Still, thanks for taking time out to read it! I really appreciate it! To my reviewer…thanks! You're awesome!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Young man control in your hand  
Slam your fist on the table  
And make your demand  
Take a stand…" (From "Youth" by Matisyahu)

The two boys sat glowering at each other across the table in the _Shatterpoint_'s mess hall. The tension in the air hanging between the pair was almost palpable. It was another living, breathing entity existing in the far corner of the already cramped room. Wheeler sat with a cold compress--- very literally a cold compress as it was made out of an old piece of cloth that had been saturated in very cold water ---against his jaw where Hawk's punch had grazed him. It was supposed to prevent the area from swelling and bruising but Wheeler had a funny feeling that was going to happen anyway. Hawk might have been flailing at him but he was strong. His punch had packed more of a wallop than Wheeler wanted to admit.

The only consolation, in Wheeler's mind anyway, was the fact that Hawk looked significantly worse than he did. The other young man sat across from him, head tilted back as he tried to stem the tide of blood leaking from his broken nose. Rebroken nose, actually, since they'd found him half frozen on his own ship with a poorly set nose. Someone, no one was quite sure who but money was on Pixie in a psychotic rage, had broken it prior to the derelict _Nebuchadnezzar_ being found.

"Why did you let this little fight go, Chian?" Niobe snapped, staring down the female in expectation of an answer.

"Honestly, ma'am," Chian replied, looking a bit too relaxed for the situation. "The two of them needed to get it out of their systems. Hawk was saying some pretty disgusting things about Wheeler's very good friend. I mean, it's bad enough that Hawk was the one who attacked Pixie in the first place."

The female from the _Logos_ looked as if she was about to go on when Hawk cut in, blurting, "Don't tell me you believe that half a nut too? She's the one who attacked me when I tried to stop her from hurting the rest of the crew."

Niobe sighed and Mace looked physically frustrated. It seemed to the two captains and to everyone else in the room that this new problem wasn't going to be solved unless they managed to make some headway in the situation that had taken place between Pixie and Hawk. The one that they'd dragged Pixie out for questioning about. The one know one but she and Hawk knew about.

"I'm not insane!" Pixie protested, from her spot near her own crew. "I didn't do anything at all. I tried my best to stop Hawk and the Cypher but Hawk kind of got the better of me. That's how I got the bruises on my back. He attacked me with a metal tray."

"I did not!" Hawk blurted, throwing his head forward and bracing himself against the table as his head reeled from the swift action. "She's lying, Captains. She's nothing but a manipulative liar and she's managed to get those two to believe her story."

"That makes a whole lot of sense Hawk. Really, that's the most logical thing I've heard…ever," Chian snapped, with a short laugh. "Almost as logical as the speech I got before I came here."

Shaking her head, Chian corrected herself, saying, "No, wait…scratch that. That speech made more sense than the trash you're spouting Hawk."

"What are you going on about?" Mace snapped, sounding not exactly pleased with the way things on his ship were going.

Mace had really hoped to have this whole mess--- the whole situation with Pixie's madness and the attack on the _Nebuchadnezzar_ ---figured out before Morpheus could get involved. Though the two bore a rather striking resemblance to each other, they were nothing alike. He, like many others in Zion, though the famous captain was just a little…off…to say the least. Mace wasn't one of those who believed in the whole idea of the "One" and had decided that anyone who did was insane. There was no way a single individual was going to be able to end a war that had been going on for nearly one hundred years or so.

Yes, there was some confusion over whether or not Pixie had done what Hawk said she'd done but the Council in Zion would want someone to blame. Things just always seemed to go more smoothly when they had someone living to place the blame on. Sure, there was the chance that they'd find Pixie completely innocent--- she really didn't seem mentally unstable unless she was very good at play acting ---but it would make these that much easier if they had someone, anyone to blame.

Now that Morpheus had gotten himself involved. It seemed like things were going to be just a bit harder than Mace had first anticipated.

Chian gave Mace a stern look and, pointed out, "No offense to you, Captain Mace, but when did I even have time to hear Pixie's side of the story? I was supposed to be sitting and watching Hawk's rear end when Pixie was telling her side of the story. You were there when Captain Niobe sent me off."

"She could have told you before then!" Hawk shouted, straining against the arms holding him to his seat. "You don't understand. She uses that mind of hers for evil. She'll make you believe things that aren't even true."

The older female glared at Hawk and countered, "And when did she do that to me? I haven't spoken to her yet."

With a sigh of frustration--- this was going nowhere fast. --- Niobe blurted, "Pixie, what happened between you and Hawk?"

Though she felt better now that she was with her fellow crewmates, Pixie still wasn't entirely comfortable speaking in front of the gathered crowd. A crowd that had grown some since the little incident between Hawk and Wheeler. Before it had only been two captains and two first mates and now it was most of the three crews that had been gathered together. It seemed like anyone who wasn't busy had come to hear how two totally different stories became intertwined.

Biting her lower lip and rubbing her hands together in a nervous sort of way, Pixie thought for a few moments. So much had happened since the fight she'd had with Hawk that Pixie wasn't exactly sure where to begin. Not knowing what Hawk had told them--- where Hawk had started his tale ---wasn't exactly making things any easier for her.

Part of her wished that she could have, at least, heard Hawk's story in his own words. Hearing it in bits and pieces and second hand from the few others she'd encountered on the _Shatterpoint_ so far reminded her of the game "telephone" from the Matrix. It was one of those games where one person whispered something in the ear of another person--- It was usually a nonsense phrase or something like that ---and that person whispered it to someone one else who whispered it to another person and so on and so on down the line. Whoever was at the end had the unenviable task of announcing whatever they'd heard. Ninety-nine point nine percent of the times, the message was drastically different from the original.

Pixie was almost sure that was going to be the case now. She'd only heard bits and pieces of the tale Hawk had spun and she had no idea how true those bits and pieces were. For all she knew, they could have been the truth or they could have been variations on the truth. They could have been just what the person remembered about the story with new details--- ones they'd made up themselves ---filled in.

Still, she knew the tale had to be told. Her version of the story, the true version of the story, had to get out. At least this time, she wouldn't be alone in telling it. Though they too would never know the whole truth, she felt better with her own crew standing behind her. It didn't feel so much like she was on trial now.

"I don't know what Hawk's told you, truthfully," she admitted. "I only know parts of the story but the parts I heard aren't exactly truthful."

"See, she's already trying to turn you all against me!" Hawk blurted as Pixie paused to get her thoughts together. "I know how her mind works. She's going to tell a story that makes me sound crazy instead of the other way around."

"Pixie's not crazy," Wheeler stated, getting frustrated with Hawk's comments. "You're the one who's just trying to protect your lies."

Hawk glared at Wheeler, still straining to get up and take another swing at the once pitcher, and mumbled, "You would say that. She's got you wrapped around her little finger."

If either young man was about to say anything else, their words were cut off by sharp looks from all in the room. Well, almost everyone in the room anyway. Though she disliked the fact Wheeler was, basically, being goaded into arguing at Hawk's level, Pixie was glad for the distraction. Anything to take all eyes off of her and the story she was supposed to tell.

It seemed, though, that it was her story that was the center of attention. No matter how much she tried to avoid it, Pixie knew she was going to have to tell her story.

"Hawk said that he'd taken some of my homemade aspirin in order to alleviate hangover symptoms," Pixie started, as the silence in the room grew too heavy for her to stand up against. "But he couldn't remember how much. I thought he might have overdosed since he implied he took about four to six doses."

"This was when?" Mace interjected. "Before or after the alleged destruction of an Agent by Neo?"

"Same day," Pixie answered, sounding more confident than she actually was about that fact. "It was a really long day, I guess."

After a few moments of thoughtful but heavy silence, Pixie continued, "I approached Morpheus--- That is, Captain Morpheus. ---to tell him that I had to stay behind in order to care for Hawk instead of going with everyone else. When I returned to the medical bay…that's when I heard Cypher and Hawk talking."

"Liar!" Hawk shouted. "She's lying! Why in the Real World would I talk to someone like Cypher? Maybe you were talking to him, Pixie, about selling everyone out."

"Why would I do that?" Pixie retorted, her own frustration growing at Hawk's seemingly baseless accusations. "If I recall, you and Cypher have---had ---been good buddies since he trained you for that fight. I tried to avoid him, if anything really."

"That I can vouch for," Trinity stated, speaking up and coming to stand behind Pixie. "Though she is more than willing to work with anyone under any circumstance, she had little love for working with Cypher. More often than not, we assigned Hawk to Cypher when work required more than one set of hands."

Pixie let out a small sigh of relief, glad to have at least some part of Hawk's claim refuted. It was true, though, she hadn't worked with Cypher as often as she had some of the other members of the crew of the _Nebuchadnezzar_. They two just didn't get along all that well, Cypher being like an adult version of Hawk in her mind. Since she wasn't keen on working with Hawk either--- a result of the fight they'd had back in the Academy among other things ---it stood to reason she didn't enjoy working with Cypher either.

"What were they talking about, Pixie?" Niobe prompted, trying to get the meeting back on track once again. "How does this play into the psychotic break Hawk says you had?"

"Cypher was talking about betraying Zion to the Agents," Pixie explained, finding that it was rather difficult to even say that now. "He said that he'd give the Agents a way into Zion and Hawk would get both the ship and…well…me."

Trying to look everyone in the eyes--- which was difficult given the number of people in the room and the fact Pixie rarely ever looked anyone in the eye when talking to them ---Pixie added, "Contrary to what I guess Hawk told all of you, I didn't have a psychotic break. I didn't fall prey to anything stress related."

Hawk mumbled something under his breath that sounded remarkably like, "You were crazy to begin with. Wouldn't take much to shove you over the edge."

"I'm the crazy one?" Pixie snapped, "I'm the crazy one? Hawk, you didn't tell them that you attacked me when I called you out on what you and Cypher were talking about? You didn't tell them that I'm covered in bruises because you decided, in your infinite wisdom to try and cripple me with a metal tray?"

Pixie rarely ever got angry or, if she did get angry, she didn't show it. Like so many others around her, the young woman tended to keep her emotions to herself. Pixie figured it just wouldn't due to show when she got annoyed or upset with those she worked with. After all, the _Nebuchadnezzar_ had been a very small place. Creating feuds with those she worked with wasn't exactly conductive to a good working environment. It just seemed better to swallow all of her feelings just to make life on the hovercraft they called home that much easier.

Now, though, she was beyond frustrated with what was going on around her. Hawk wasn't even allowing her the chance to tell her side of the story. He was incising she was insane or had gone insane and that was that. He didn't want anyone to hear her side of the story--- the story that involved her not going insane and attacking everyone. ---because her side contradicted his. He wanted them to believe him and not her because, if they believed her, he'd be in the wrong. That was something Hawk didn't want under any circumstances.

"That was how you got the bruises on your back, Pixie?" Barriss wanted to know. "Captain Mace had me speculated because he was very curious as to how you wound up bruised like that."

"When I confronted Hawk about what I'd heard him and Cypher talking about he got angry with me. He was the one who attacked me and not the other way around," Pixie explained.

With something like a smile on her face, she added, "I guess I put up more of a fight than he expected because he got angry with me and took the tray to my back. That's how I got the bruises."

"Is any of this true, Hawk?" Niobe wanted to know, rounding on the still struggling young man with the broken nose. "You beat up Pixie just because she was trying to stop a mutiny that would have cost us all our lives?"

A fleeting look of panic crossed Hawk's face as he realized that he was caught in a bind. In his version of the story there had been no mention of Cypher turning on his own crew. His version revolved around Pixie snapping on the crew because she wasn't allowed to go into the Matrix with the others. She'd been the one to attack the rest of the crew and kill most of them, including Cypher, and he'd been the brave soul who stopped her at risk of his own life.

Of course he hadn't a way to explain just why, after she'd tied him down, she didn't attack the remaining crew members or why she left him alive at all but that didn't seem to bother Mace. Just the idea that the person who'd taken the lives of so many people for no apparent reason--- other than the fact she'd lost it ---was good enough for him.

"It wasn't like that," he blurted. "I beat her up trying to save whoever else I could. I've never had anything to do with Cypher."

"But we do have proof that Cypher turned," Ghost pointed out. "Both Neo and Trinity stated that he was in league with the agents."

"They didn't say he had help, though, did they?" Hawk stated. "They didn't mention the possibility that Pixie could be in league with him?"

"I wasn't in league with Cypher, Hawk!" Pixie stated. "You were! I heard it all!"

Turning to Morpheus, with a small version of her "pixie grin" on her face, the young woman asked, in a rather small and quiet voice, "Has anyone checked the ship's log? Maybe, then, we can get the record straight."

"What do you take us for?" Depa snapped. "A bunch of bumbling fools? Just because we're not on a ship as prestigious and famous as your _Nebuchadnezzar_ doesn't mean we're not as capable as you at following standard procedure. Of course we checked your craft's log but there was just one problem…"

"The recordings were trash," Mace filled in. "Pure and utter trash. There was no image in them. Just sound and it wasn't very good quality either. We could come to any…accurate conclusions….from what we were able to hear."

"What you're saying, then, Captain Mace is that you are going to accuse my medic of mutiny simply because the log you viewed had no visual images and the sound quality wasn't what you'd like it to be?" Morpheus wanted to know, his usually calm voice slightly angry sounding.

Mace, throwing Morpheus a scathing look, commented, "It was difficult to tell who was speaking Captain Morpheus. Considering the amount of damage your ship sustained, it was a pleasant surprise to even find a log of what went on within the craft. As any captain knows, what occurs in the Matrix is backed up for later viewing. What occurs on the ship, however, is erased at the end of each day and the space reused. Only certain, specific events can be saved and only if the captain or whoever is in charge inputs commands to allow that to happen."

"Captain Mace," Trinity chimed in, "why weren't we told about this record? When Morpheus, Neo and I spoke with you and Captain Niobe, we were not made aware of this little fact."

Much to the surprise of most in the room, Niobe added, "You didn't tell me you'd found that data, Mace. When were you going to tell me this?"

Looking nonplused, Mace answered, "It didn't seem relevant. I assumed, Captain Niobe that you and your crew were more concerned with getting back to Zion in one piece, yourselves, instead of the state of this other craft."

"Perhaps we should all be allowed to…hear…the recording, Captain Mace. Perhaps that will us to accurately place blame where it belongs in this matter," Morpheus suggested.

"You mean on Pixie," Hawk mumbled, as Mace and Depa left to fetch the necessary equipment.

Pixie heaved an annoyed sigh--- One echoed by Wheeler, who'd taken to sitting next to the young woman with his arms crossed over his chest. ---and stated, "I'm not afraid of the truth, Hawk. I know what's we're all going to hear. Maybe you should be the one to be take a second and worry. You're not going to get away with this…not at all!"


	24. Brighter than Sunshine

AN: Hi everyone! I apologize for these updates being kind of on the slow side but some "Real World" stuff has gotten in my way. Put it this way, I haven't exactly been feeling well lately. Stress does some pretty nasty things to people even when you're not thinking about it. I am trying, though, really I am. The funny thing is that this has nothing to do with school or anything. It has more to do with me being finished school for now and having to find a job. That's some pretty scary stuff in my opinion. I always liked academia better than even the idea of getting a job but that's just me. I'll keep getting updates up as fast as I can for this and for my odd little story about Wheeler (called "A Pitcher's Tale" if anyone's interested in reading it). Anyway, thanks to everyone out there who's putting up with my slow updating and still reading this mess of a story. I promise Matrix-y goodness and some Pixie and Wheeler stuff coming soon. If you've left me a review….a million thanks! You're the best!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"I never saw it happening  
I'd given up and given in  
I just couldn't take the hurt again  
What a feeling

I didn't have the strength to fight  
Suddenly you seemed so right  
Me and you  
What a feeling…" (From "Brighter Than Sunshine" by Aqualung)

It had been the tapes--- without pictures but with sound, even if said sound cut out at times or was badly garbled ---that had done it. They were what showed that Pixie hadn't gone insane and tried to take out not only Hawk but the rest of her crew as well. The young woman couldn't help but feel just a little relieved about that fact. At least no one was looking at her like she was a second away from having another mental break down.

The funny thing was, listening to those tapes, listening to the fight she'd had with Hawk, gave Pixie chills. She'd been too busy trying to stay alive and helping what was left of her crew stay alive that the fight had been but on the backburner. She hadn't really thought about what had gone down between the two of them that fateful day in the _Nebuchadnezzar_ mostly because she hadn't had time too. There were far too many other things to think about.

Now, though, hearing the tapes of her fight, she found herself sitting closer to Wheeler the edge of the table than she normally would have. Her knees and feet were entangled with his, Wheeler rubbing one of his hands against her thighs. He could feel her fairly shivering with either anger or fear, Wheeler wasn't entirely sure. It could have been nerves too. Wheeler had never really touched Pixie's legs like that. They were more the hand holding type, when no one was looking of course.

The only time the fight even came up in conversation was when Morpheus and Trinity had asked her to recount it for them just after Hawk came out of his drug induced fog. He'd started shouting about how he had to be set free because Pixie had attacked him. That was what had caused Morpheus and Trinity to break away from Neo and his far more amazing tale to listen to what Hawk and Pixie had to say.

The bruises on her back and the fact she couldn't really lie to anyone, especially to those in positions of power, had given her story more weight than Hawk's tall tale. Besides, only Pixie would know where the anesthetics were kept. It was a move more her style than Hawk's. Pixie had always been the type to end a fight with a smart rather than a strong move. Hawk was more of a dirty fighter. The type who would have beat someone into unconsciousness instead of using drugs.

"I believe that would be proof enough that my medic is not guilty as charged," Morpheus, calmly, stated, speaking to both Niobe and Mace.

"We can't really tell who's speaking on that tape, Morpheus," Mace challenged. "It's so badly garbled at times you can't tell if it's a man or a woman speaking. That's no proof your medic didn't do it."

Though she couldn't see them, Pixie could almost feel Trinity tense behind her and Morpheus glare holes through the other captain. Pixie, herself, just stared at the tabletop, trying to ignore the fact she was still shaking like a leaf. She hadn't realized just what hearing the exchange she had with Hawk would do to her. It was like reliving the fight, blow by blow, once again. Whether it was from hearing the beating she'd taken--- it sounded infinitely worse hearing it than actually living it for some strange, detached reason ---or just because her back was starting to ache from sitting up, Pixie didn't feel all that well.

Suddenly, the young woman felt tired and sore and, mostly, afraid. She was glad for Wheeler being there, though. His hand on her thighs made her feel a bit better. Why that made her feel better, Pixie couldn't really say. It was just a small connection to someone who she knew that cared about her. It wasn't anything too huge or obvious, since it was under the table, literally. Still, it made her feel a bit better about the whole situation.

"Mace, give it up," Niobe snapped, turning her glare towards the _Shatterpoint_'s captain. "Pixie had nothing to do with what happened on the _Nebuchadnezzar_."

"She tried to stop Hawk," Chian said, looking absolutely pale faced after hearing what had happened to her friend. "Brave of you, kid. I didn't know you had it in you."

"I tried," Pixie mumbled, speaking to the table top. "But I didn't do as well as I would have liked. I thought I'd be able to do something more than just stop Hawk."

"You did well for someone in your situation Pixie," Morpheus assured her, putting one of his large hands on her narrow shoulders.

"I really could have done more, sir," the young woman protested, craning her neck to peer at her captain. "But I couldn't even think of moving. Hawk did a real number on my back and once the adrenaline let down started..."

Though she, logically, knew that there was nothing she could have done to stop Cypher, Pixie still felt as if she should have tried to do something. In her head, she knew that even if she did manage to get to the Core, there was no way she could have done anything to stop Cypher. If anything, she would have wound up dead like the others. She certainly hadn't been in any shape to fight then. Actually, she still wasn't in any shape to fight. As it was, it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to stay sitting up.

"You did your best, Pixie," Trinity stated, earning odd looks from everyone else in the small room since she wasn't exactly known for being the…kindest…of people in the resistance. "If you hadn't survived who would have kept Tank going while Neo and I rescued Morpheus?"

Pixie shrugged her shoulders, feeling herself turn a bright shade of red. She wasn't really sure what to say to that. Alright, she'd helped to keep Tank conscious while he operated--- since his burns were bad enough to cause shock-like symptoms ---but it wasn't anything as spectacular as what Trinity and Neo had accomplished. Pixie figured she was only doing her job. Nothing too special there.

"So we've established that Hawk was the one who provoked Pixie and not the other way around," Niobe pointed out. "How about this other little…issue…we're having here?"

"What other issue?" Hawk wanted to know, his voice nasal but innocent sounding.

"The one where you jumped me," Wheeler answered, accidently tightening his hand around Pixie's leg, digging his fingers into her thigh. "And then tried to peg that fight on me."

"That was your fault," Hawk retorted. "You were the one who started with me. All I wanted to do was go back in my room and take a nap. You can ask the big mouth over there. She saw the whole thing."

"Saw and did nothing about it," Ghost added, fixing Chian with a hard stare. "Which was very irresponsible of you."

Chian shrugged and said, in an all too calm voice, "They had to get it out of their systems. Hawk was insulting Wheeler's friend. I would have done something myself but Wheeler's stock in the situation's greater than mine. He needed to get it out of his system more than I did."

Glaring at Hawk, the older female added. "Though I wouldn't say 'no' to going a few rounds with Hawk, myself. He does deserve it. He's no better than that traitor Cypher."

"Chian," Niobe stated in a warning voice. "Cut it out otherwise you can leave. I'm sure there's someone on one of these buckets that can use your help."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Chian leaned against a wall. She seemed content to keep her mouth shut for the moment anyway. It was anyone's guess on how long that was going to last. Pixie knew that Chian was the type of person who said whatever was on her mind, no matter what the consequences. Not necessarily a bad thing but not something Pixie, herself, would do.

There was silence for a few long moments before Morpheus stated, "Pixie, now that we have your place in this situation figured out, would you be willing to tell your story?"

Pixie wanted to say that she wasn't willing to tell her story once more but she also knew that it was important for her to tell the story of what she'd heard and what Hawk had done to her. Despite the fact the others might have believed that she was innocent of the crimes Hawk had claimed she was guilty of, Pixie figured that the seeds of doubt were still there. Most in this room had heard Hawk's story before hearing part of her version or the tapes of what had actually happened. It was hard to tell what they believed now, people being as unpredictable in the Real World as they were in the Matrix.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Pixie, once again, prepared to tell her side of the story. A story that seemed to take forever to tell as she was asked countless questioned and forced to recount even the smallest parts of not only her fight with Hawk but what had taken place afterwards. It seemed like everyone wanted to get their story straight before confronting Lock with it.

"I don't think your team will be physically able to keep watch for us, Morpheus," Mace stated, as Pixie's mind wandered back into the conversations that were going on around her.

Once the questions had stopped being directed towards her, Pixie's mind had started to wander. Wheeler's hand was still on her thigh, absently rubbing circles on her legs. With her back starting to hurt once again, Pixie decided to focus on that feeling instead. It was strange, really. She wasn't exactly comfortable with Wheeler's hand on her legs but it wasn't exactly uncomfortable either. It was just a…different…sort of feeling, really. Kind of like the fact she'd always been uncomfortable with having her hand held or kissing another person. It was just a different sort of feeling; one she was more than a little willing to try and get use to.

"Some will," Morpheus replied. "But some will not. They still need time to heal from their wounds."

Looking at her captain, Pixie blurted, "I'm alright. I can have a watch just like everyone else. I don't want to be a bother to anyone by not taking one."

"You're no good to anyone hurt," the young woman's captain informed her. "Take the next few days to heal your bruises. Once you're able to move about as you normally would, then we will talk about you working."

"Sir, if I may interject," Barriss cut in, speaking for the first time. "Given the severity of Pixie's injuries, it is highly unlikely that she will regain full range of motion in her back. Once the bruising goes down, we may be able to make a more accurate diagnosis but, given the situation, full range of motion seems unlikely."

Though she'd suspected as much--- Being a medic, herself, she knew a few things about the human body. ---Pixie couldn't help but feel a bit crushed by that statement. Being as sick as she'd been in the Matrix, one of her favorite parts of being in the Real World was the fact she was, truly, a different person and she liked that fact. She could move around as freely as anyone her age could. Being told that could change all thanks to Hawk made her feel almost physically ill.

"You don't know Pixie," Wheeler stated. "She'll be just fine."

The funny thing was Wheeler spoke with such conviction that Pixie was almost sure she believed him. That went against all logic, of course, but, still, she believed him. If her back was permanently injured thanks to Hawk, she'd figured out a way around it. She'd find some way to move like she was use to.

Giving Pixie a questioning look, almost as if he was asking her silent permission for what he was about to say, Wheeler added. "Pixie and I can share a room if she wants. I mean, I know that you guys can't use your ship and the _Shatterpoint_'s a lot bigger than the _Logos_ so…yeah…she can share my room with me."

Pixie shot Wheeler a surprised look, finding that he was blushing almost as much as she was. The young woman wasn't sure what to say to Wheeler since her voice seemed to have taken a nice leave of absence. All she could do was gawk at him like a fish out of water. Well, what the Matrix said a fish out of water looked like anyway. Either way, it was the best analogy she could come up with.

"It's not like I'm going to do anything…" Wheeler blurted, his face turning redder. "I just figured that it was in the best interest of sharing spaces and, anyway, I'm going to be doing…stuff. It's not like I'm going to be in there with her. But only if that's alright with Pixie."

"I don't like that idea in the least," Mace stated. "We all know how teenage boys are, don't we?"

"I don't," Chian spoke up, from her spot against the wall. "What are teenage boys like?"

"Chian," Niobe warned again. "Can you, at least, pretend to respect Captain Mace?"

"She's hurt and he's…he's Wheeler! He's just being nice and offering her a place to sleep. Anything has to be better than sleeping in the medical bay," Chian countered. "The beds on this bucket have to be softer than those tables in the medical bay."

"That's what I meant. I think," Wheeler blurted, a slight smile on his face. "I just figured it would be more comfortable for her there."

Truthfully, Wheeler wasn't entirely sure what he meant but he figured that Chian's explanation sounded as good as any he could come up with. It wasn't as if he wanted to do anything with Pixie--- She was hurt and he didn't want to disrespect her like that. ---because that wasn't the gentlemanly thing to do. He was really just trying to be nice since it was clear the situation she'd come from hadn't been all that nice.

"It's up to Pixie," Morpheus said. "Though I appreciate the aid you have already given us Captains Mace and Niobe."

"I guess…I guess if Wheeler wouldn't mind sharing his room with me," Pixie stated as everyone's combined gazes seemed to fall on her. "I'd be happy to take the offer."


	25. Lullaby

AN: Hiya everyone out there still reading this mess of a story! I hope you're all enjoying the ride through _The Matrix_ and the misadventures of a young woman with a mythological name and her former baseball playing friend. I promise to get back to the main movie storyline sooner rather than later. This little…sidetrack…is there just because I figure that, in the movie, the _Nebuchadnezzar_ needed a couple of repair days before the final scene. That's just my assumption though and I could be totally wrong about it. Anyway, the next few chapters are sort of uncharted water for me. I'm not entirely comfortable writing things like this for some strange reason (maybe I read too many sci-fi novels or something) so please feel free to let me know how I'm doing with this. I'm open to any opinions and criticisms, good, bad, or indifferent. Just let me know how I'm doing, alright? To anyone still reading this, you're still awesome and I still thank you for taking the time to read this. To anyone who's left a review, you still rock like a box of socks!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own The _Matrix_, _The __Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Everything's gonna be all right.  
Rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye.  
Everything's gonna be all right.  
Rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye, rock-a-bye…." (From "Lullaby" by Sean Mullins)

"And…yeah…this is my room," Wheeler mumbled, opening a nondescript door to show Pixie a room only slightly smaller than the one she use to call home on the _Nebuchadnezzar_. "Not much of a place but this is home for me on here."

Pixie, still hobbled by her back despite the fact she'd been given a very mild painkiller, stuck her head in the room and smiled a bit. The space was plain, utilitarian and metallic, just like her own space on the _Nebuchadnezzar _had been. There wasn't a lot in the way of obvious personal effects in the small space but Pixie did spy what looked to be a worn spheroid that could have been a Zion made baseball tucked into a mesh net against one of the walls.

That only made her smile grow a bit more. Leave it to Wheeler--- The former pitcher that he was ---to have a baseball with him. Pixie remembered playing catch with Wheeler once before, the day after they decided to make things…official…as it were and become a dating couple. Though the two of them preferred calling themselves "better than best friends" instead of an actual couple. It was just more comfortable for them to use that phrase instead.

"It's nice," Pixie said, speaking more to the floor than to Wheeler. "Cozy."

Wheeler laughed and, nervously, rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. He was almost sure he was as embarrassed as Pixie was about this whole thing. He figured that he was just doing the nice thing by asking if she wanted to borrow his room but it had dawned on him during the course of his day that there would be some point in time where they would wind up together in the same room. He wasn't going to be able to work all night, even with three ships and Hawk to watch.

Actually, and according to Depa, he wasn't going to be working that night at all. After the fight with Hawk and the fact he'd put in a full day's work--- A day's work that didn't include having to take another shift babysitting Hawk ---had made Mace decide to spare the boy late night shifts. He needed his rest in order to help with the major repair work that was to start the next day and, besides, he could just keep an eye on one of Barriss's patients for her while he was at it.

That was definitely not what Wheeler planned when he brought up the idea of sharing his room with Pixie. Still, he didn't want to be mean and go back on what he said. The two of them would just have to figure something out.

"I'll take the floor," Wheeler stated, after a time. "And you can have my bed. Can you, maybe, just thrown me down one of those blankets and a pillow?"Pixie furrowed her forehead, giving Wheeler a very confused look and sitting on the edge of his bed. Not that she was confused about what he was asking for. Someone, maybe Luminari or Barriss, had left the pair extra bedding that way it wouldn't be two people fighting over one thin blanket and one worn pillow. It made sense, actually, but Pixie had to wonder just how they knew about the fact she and Wheeler were going to be roommates for the rest of the night.

As it was, Pixie, herself, had only just found out that little fact. The young woman wasn't sure if she was upset or not by her knew sleeping arrangements. She'd been flattered and a little embarrassed by the fact Wheeler had offered her his room for the night. Maybe a little appreciative too. The whole situation she'd found herself in seemed just a bit too huge for her. Something simple like her better than best friend offering her his room was a welcome comfort. It was a little thing that made her feel less lost in the shuffle of what had taken place over the past few days…or was it weeks, Pixie wasn't sure. "You can't sleep on the floor, Wheeler," she protested. "You'll freeze to death down there and I can tell you for a fact that freezing to death is no fun!"

Sitting up proving to be difficult for her given the state of her back, Pixie had shucked off her boots and was lying on her stomach on Wheeler's bed. She hoped he didn't mind her doing that but, even with the painkillers, her back was aching her. She was trying to ignore it as best she could but, every so often, she'd get a twinge from a muscle that was trying to work despite the severe bruising. She was just a bit more comfortable lying down instead of sitting up. It took less effort on her part to lie down instead of sit up. Sitting up was starting to require a conscious effort.

"Where am I going to sleep, Pix?" Wheeler wanted to know, sitting in a catcher's crouch against the far wall of his room. "One night isn't going to hurt me. You were on that ship several days; at least that's what Barriss figured."

"You take the bed, it's yours anyway. I'll take the floor," Pixie answered, clambering off the bunk and situating herself on the floor. "I don't want to put you out or anything, Wheeler. This is your room on your ship."

Though she knew it was impossible, the cold floor seemed to sense that something warmer than it had decided to have a seat on it. It sent little tendrils of cold up Pixie's legs, chilling her all the way to the bone. The cold crawled up Pixie's skin, leaving trails of goose bumps as it moved from her legs to spread out and across the rest of her body. Despite all the clothing she was wearing, Pixie found herself starting to shiver from the chill that was seeping up through the floor.

"I'm not letting you sleep on the floor. The idea was for you not to be stuck sleeping on something cold," Wheeler stated, physically lifting Pixie from the ground and placing her back on his bed. "Besides, Barriss said you're getting over exposure so I figure that it's probably not a good idea for you to get colder. It might make you sick or something."

Straightening up, the former pitcher added, "Aren't you medics supposed to know things like that?"

"But it's your bed," Pixie protested. "I don't want you to have to be all displaced and uncomfortable. Plus the floor is cold and I don't think you want to get sick either. I know you're going to say that one night isn't going to hurt you but you never know. I don't think Barriss or Luminari will be happy with another patient on their hands."

Wheeler got quiet for a moment, giving Pixie a rather strange look. Thinking he wanted to sit down, she scooted backwards on his bed, freeing up a space for him to sit. Even though there was a space for him to sit, Wheeler still didn't move. He just stood before Pixie, hands on his hips and a faraway look in his eyes. He seemed to be thinking about something but what that something was, Pixie couldn't say.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Wheeler sat down on the bed, ruffling Pixie's hair as he did so. She laughed, shaking her head in order to get her hair to fall back into its more "natural" position. Her bangs hung nearly over her eyes--- Pixie knew she was in dire need of a haircut and a good scrubbing of her hair but that was a luxury that she couldn't afford. When they got back to Zion, she could deal with her hair. ---but the rest of her waist length hair fell around her shoulders and down her back. The young woman was well aware of the fact that her hair wasn't exactly standard for someone in her position but she couldn't see herself without it.

Her hair was just part of how she saw herself. When she'd had no hair, just after she'd been freed from the Matrix, Pixie had felt almost naked. There was just something not right about not having her hair brushing against her neck and shoulders. Once it had started growing, she'd kept it growing until it returned to the length it had been in the Matrix. Having waist length hair was far from practical, especially given her job, but she just couldn't see herself without it.

Thinking for a long while--- or what seemed like a long while to Pixie anyway, Wheeler, with a sigh and an embarrassed expression on his face, proposed, "Since you don't want me to sleep on the floor and I don't want you sleeping on the floor, the only suggestion I have is one I don't think you're going to like."

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Wheeler said, "The two of us are could always share the bed. That way neither of us has to sleep on the floor."

It took a few moments for Wheeler's words to fully sink into her addled and tired brain. She figured that she should have been offended by Wheeler's suggestion, like some young women should have been. Instead, Pixie found that she couldn't bring herself to be offended by Wheeler's innocent sounding suggestion.

For some reason, a warm fluttery feeling was spreading over Pixie, starting someplace near the pit of her stomach. She felt oddly nervous, a feeling akin to the one she had before entering the Matrix, but there was no reason for the feeling now. There wasn't anything dangerous about to happen; her life wasn't at risk at the moment nor was it going to be at risk so long as someone was on watch.

The young woman was well aware of the fact she was just getting some rest while someone watched her back and shared a bed with her. That was no reason to be nervous. It wasn't like Wheeler was a bad person or anything like that. It wasn't as if he was someone like Hawk, who couldn't be trusted with anything at all. Wheeler was different, somehow and in some way.

"But how are we going to do that?" Pixie wanted to know, a hint of nervousness in her voice.

"As I see it," Wheeler replied, his voice matching her own. "We can sleep back to back or head to feet. Whatever makes you more comfortable about this whole thing."

Pixie knew how she felt about Wheeler and Wheeler knew how he felt about the young woman he was sharing a room with. The logical part of Pixie's mind knew that Wheeler was doing this for her benefit. He was trying to make her feel comfortable so that she'd do what he knew was good for her.

There were logical reasons for Wheeler making such a surprising suggestion. Sleeping on the floor was not what was good for her and Pixie knew that fact. If anything, it would just make her condition worse between the cold and the fact the floor was far from comfortable. Maybe there was also the fact Wheeler wanted to protect her or something like that but Pixie wasn't sure. She knew, back before the pair had become an "official couple," Wheeler had always wanted to protect her. Pixie wasn't entirely sure that still held true now.

The other, less rational, part of her had slipped its mental muzzle off again. It was suggesting Wheeler had ulterior motives to his suggestion. There were other reasons why he was suggesting they share his bed for the night. Ones that had nothing to do with keeping her warm and safe for the rest of the night.

"He's not Hawk," Pixie reminded herself. "He'd never even think of doing anything like that to me.

The young woman hoped that she was telling herself the truth and that placing her trust in Wheeler was the right thing do. For some reason, Pixie was almost sure of the fact he wasn't the type to think like Hawk. Wheeler had far more respect for her than Pixie thought she deserved. She wasn't entirely sure why he held her in such high regard since she was just herself. Nothing more and nothing less.

Pixie was never one who understood the whole trusting another individual thing. The way she'd been raised, the location she'd done most of her growing up in the Matrix in, wasn't exactly the breeding ground for learning how to trust others.

Hawk was a perfect example of that. She'd trusted Hawk as something like a friend--- Pixie use to refer to him as an "ally" instead of a "friend" ---and wound up having that trust broken in more ways than she could ever imagine. With a mental smile, Pixie decided that Hawk had not only broken her trust more than once but had tried to break her back as well. There was just something extremely not amusing about that fact. Just sadly ironic, if anything, about that fact.

One of the many things Pixie had learned during her time in the Real World was that there were people she could trust. Not everyone was like Hawk or the people she'd lived with in the Matrix. There were a rare people she did trust and who had not broken that confidence. First and foremost in her mind was her adopted family--- Rain, Torrent, and, of course, Eli ---as people she'd trusted and had been found worth of that trust. Her few friends and most ofthe crew she worked with had begun to fit into that category as well.

It was almost a given that Pixie trusted Wheeler as a friend. He was one of her best friends in Zion, as a matter of fact. As friends, they had a strange sort of comfort between them. To trust him any further and as anything more than her better than best friend would take more practice.

Practice she didn't exactly have time for now. Pixie was still trying to get over the idea of the two of them sharing a room at the moment.

Unable to come up with a good enough answer to his question, Pixie shrugged, an awkward looking action given the fact she'd returned to lying on her stomach. It seemed to Wheeler that she wanted to leave the decision up to him since it was his bed they were sharing. That fact--- the fact she put that sort of trust in him ---made Wheeler both embarrassed and a little uncomfortable. He wasn't exactly use to being implicitly trusted like that.

"Back to back it is," Wheeler decided, speaking quickly. "Its how my brother and I use to sleep when we were kids and we went to our grandparents farm and had to share one room."

Looking half confused and half amused, Wheeler paused and rethought about what he'd said. Something about it, to him anyway, wasn't making any sense.

"It is weird when you think about it," Pixie commented with a nervouslaugh. "Even if it wasn't real, it's what you think happened and you still think it's real. Is that what you're thinking?"

Wheeler nodded and pointed out, "I keep trying to believe that my whole past was false but it's hard sometimes. I still find myself thinking about my brother and my parents, even if they weren't the greatest parents in the world now that I think about it."

Pixie gave Wheeler a small smile and said, "I wish I could say something to help you out there but I can't really. The best I can say is that sometimes I find it hard to forget about my past too. It's just part of me, I guess, real or not."

Returning her smile, Wheeler stated, "I guess we should probably get to bed. I don't want you to up too late. Barriss will have my head if I don't let you get some sleep."

Walking out of the room as best she could, Pixie went to get herself ready for bed. Not that she had much of a bedtime routine but she was glad for the chance to step out of Wheeler's room and get her thoughts in order. Pixie felt her mind, despite being drenched in painkillers, racing a mile a minute as she tried to make sense of the situation she'd found herself in.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Pixie decided that the pair of them could just muddle through their new situation. They'd just figure something and, besides, according to what she'd been told, once you got to sleep it didn't matter where, when, or with whom you were sleeping. Your mind was resting so you just didn't know.

"Um..." Wheeler started as Pixie wandered back into the room with her boots in her hand and an embarrassed look on her face, "do you want the outside or the inside of the bed?"

While Pixie had slipped out to do whatever girls did before they went to sleep, Wheeler found himself wondering just what he was going to do about the mess he'd found himself in.There was absolutely no question on how he felt about Pixie and he hoped he had the where with all to keep himself in check right now. He didn't need his body doing something stupid and making both of them--- him and Pixie ---even more embarrassed.

"Outside," Pixie answered, standing her boots next to Wheeler's, "I sleep on the outside of my bunk on my ship."

"So I guess this is good night then," Wheeler commented, crawling into the small bed and switching the pillows so that Pixie was sleeping on the outside of the bed and he was sleeping against the wall.

Not that Wheeler minded sleeping up against the wall. That was where he normally slept anyway despite the fact the walls on the _Shatterpoint _were cold. It was just something he'd always done from back when he was younger and still stuck in the Matrix.

"I guess it is," Pixie mumbled, sighing deeply.

Pixie wormed her way into Wheeler's bed, frowning every time she wound up accidently lying on her bruised back. She was just glad she didn't normally sleep on her back since that would have made things that much harder. Neither Pixie nor Wheeler, though, seemed interested in actually going to sleep. Wheeler lay on his back, staring at the plain metal ceiling of his room, while Pixie lay on her side, eyes down on the rough blanket she was covered with.

Rolling onto his side, Wheeler kissed Pixie on the forehead and said, "Sleep tight, Pix. If you need anything, I'm right next to you, alright?"

Pixie would have nodded her head if not for the fact it was on the pillow so she settled for answering with, "Alright. Sweet dreams Wheeler."

"You too, Pix, you too," he mumbled as he rolled onto his side to face the wall and try and get some rest.


	26. Sanctuary

AN: Hiya everyone! I'm excited because spring is fast approaching. I like spring much better than I like the fall or winter. Just the idea that, soon, it won't be cold makes me very, very happy. I really can't stand the cold or the fact I have to sleep under eight blankets just to stay warm at night. Well, there's that and the fact I really don't like my winter jacket. The thing just annoys me for some reason. Anywho, I hope you're all enjoying my little misadventure. I'm warning anyone reading this in advance that I was just a little iffy about even posting this chapter. For some reason, writing this sort of stuff doesn't exactly come easily for me. I always feel like I'm writing the wrong thing...more so than usual anyway. Thanks to everyone still reading this mess of a story! You'll never know how much I appreciate you taking time out of your day to read this. To those who have left me a review…you guys are the best! As always, any and all input is appreciated…good, bad, or indifferent. Just let me know what you think I can improve on or any of your other thoughts!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own _The__Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"I watch you fast asleep,  
All I fear means nothing,  
In you and I, there's a new land,  
Angels in flight,  
I need more affection than you know  
My sanctuary, my sanctuary…" (From "Sanctuary" by Utada Hikaru from Kingdom Hearts II)

By everyone's accounts, Wheeler was a darn good sleeper. He was one of those people who could sleep anyplace and at any time. Not that he was a deep sleeper--- The kind who went to sleep and then was a pain to wake. ---or anything of the sort. He was just really good at sleeping, which was probably a good thing considering his job.

The odd thing was that just as he was good at falling asleep, Wheeler was just as good at waking up. He was the type of person who could go from fast asleep to wide awake in a matter of moments. That too, though, was considered a good thing given his job. It was always nice to have someone up and awake in a matter of moments just in case of an emergency.

At the moment, though Wheeler found himself totally unable to sleep. He was tired enough to fall asleep, true, but he just couldn't bring himself to close his eyes. Something was stopping him from falling asleep and he knew exactly what that something was.

Wheeler found that he'd suddenly become extremely sensitive to where he rested his arms and legs. He had nearly flattened himself against the wall just to be sure Pixie had enough room in the small bed they were sharing. He couldn't allow himself to fall asleep just in case something happen while he slept that made Pixie feel as if he wanted something more from her. It was almost bad enough that they were sharing a bed. Wheeler really didn't want to make that situation any more uncomfortable than it already seemed to the both of them.

A noise, something very close to a whimper but not really, caught his attention waking the young man up a bit further. He'd never had a dog during his time in the Matrix--- Wheeler's mother couldn't stand dogs, cats, birds, or any manner of caged rodent. Reptiles and amphibians were tolerated so long as they didn't escape from their cages nor was she "forced" to clean or feed them. In his mother's mind, the best pets were fish and rocks. ---

but he figured that was the sort of sound a wounded or sick dog made when it tried to get its owner's attention.

The sound was just loud enough that Wheeler decided that it came from someone or something in his room and not some other part of the ship. The metallic corridors of the _Shatterpoint_ seemed to magnify every sound in them. If someone dropped something, no matter how small, you heard it throughout the craft. It bounced off the metal walls, letting everyone on the craft know something had happened. 

The sound Wheeler's sensitive ears heard, though, was small enough to only have come from the confines of his small room. It wasn't an echo of a sound from another room he was hearing either since his door was closed and rather thick. It couldn't have come through the thin walls that separated the rooms. It was just too soft a sound for that to be the case.

Wheeler knew he, himself, hadn't made the sound considering he extremely aware of himself he felt at the moment. Thinking it might have just been his imagination, Wheeler went back to his silent study of the wall. He was, at the moment, counting the dents in the well worn metal in order to pass the time and try to not fall asleep. 

As he reached somewhere in the midhundreds--- though Wheeler might have skipped a few numbers here and there or counted the same dents twice--- the sound came again. The whimper was slightly louder this time, headed more towards whine than whimper really. Wheeler, though he'd been occupied with the wall, was nearly one hundred percent sure it wasn't a sound he'd made. Besides, there was no reason he could think of to whimper like he was hurt. After all, despite what had happened with Hawk, Wheeler was no worse for wear. Just a few bruises, that was all. Nothing like the rebroken nose Hawk was sporting.

Though it was breaking the one of the unspoken rules the two young rebels had set before falling asleep together, Wheeler rolled over to face Pixie's back. He propped himself up an elbow and looked over Pixie's shoulder, trying to catch a look at a sleeping Pixie's face.

She didn't appear to be in any pain at the moment---He'd been warned by Barriss that Pixie's painkillers might wear off during the night --- as he watched her eyes moving under her eyelids as she dreamed. Wheeler sent a silent wish out to whomever was listening, asking themto makePixie's dreams pleasant and not about what had happened to her. He figured she could use a good dream or two or ten after all of that. 

Deciding that it probably wasn't Pixie making the whimpering sounds, Wheeler decided to go back to staring at his wall and paying attention to where his arms and legs were. The former pitcher had nearly lowered himself completely back down when he felt the blankets that covered the pair of them shift over a fraction. 

Wheeler figured it was just Pixie moving her sleep, just like he would if he'd actually been sleeping. He only knew one person, in both the Real World and the Matrix who slept in one place all night long. That person being his kid brother, Arthur---Was he really his kid brother, Wheeler often wondered? ---who had been onlyeleven years old when Wheeler had been freed.

Then the whimpering sound came and he felt the blankets shift again. Putting two and two together, Wheeler came to the conclusion that it was Pixie who was making the whimpering sounds but he didn't know why. There had to be a reason since, to Wheeler, it didn't exactly look like Pixie was having a nightmare. Nightmares, in his head anyway, involved someone thrashing around and crying out in their sleep. Pixie wasn't doing anything like that so Wheeler couldn't figure out why she was whimpering like she was.

Wheeler propped himself up once again, mentally apologizing to Pixie for doing so, and watched her sleep. For a few long moments, Pixie seemed fine. She just lay there in the grips of sleep, getting the rest she really needed. 

Then Pixie tried to move. It seemed like she wanted to get onto her back to change the way she was sleeping.

Wheeler winced as she tried again, knowing the state her back was in. He wanted to get up and go a few more rounds with Hawk for doing what he had done to Pixie but he couldn't right now. Hawk would have to be dealt with later, if he had the chance to deal with him again at all. 

At the moment, though, there were other more pressing matters at hand.

For a moment Wheeler considered waking Pixie up and asking if she wanted to go down to the _Shatterpoint_'s medical bay for some painkillers or whatever there was so her back wouldn't hurt her anymore. The young man felt bad, though, waking Pixie up. When she was making small whimpering sounds and grimacing, she looked as if she was sleeping peacefully. Wheeler decided, then and there, that he couldn't wake her up. That would just be mean of him to do. 

As he lay in his bed, trying to decide what to do about Pixie and her situation, Wheeler got an idea. It wasn't exactly the kind of idea he was use to getting but, given the situation, he couldn't blame himself. This wasn't exactly something he figured he'd have to deal with until, at least, the end of the war. He knew if Elan or any other male he knew got wind of that fact he'd never hear the end of it. It wasn't the typical thinking of someone his age.

Wheeler took a deep breath and let it out. This idea went against every unspoken rule he and Pixie had established before deciding to be bunkmates for the evening. Still, he had to do something. Anything was better than listening to Pixie whimper as she tried to change positions in her sleep.

Slowly but surely, Wheeler wormed his way over to the other side of the bed. Never had his narrow bed felt so vast; the distance from wall he normally slept against to edge near where he rested his boots so far. It seemed like an age had passed before he even moved an inch across the bed.

Wheeler found Pixie first with his hands. Pixie was sleeping dangerously close to the edge of the bed, apparently giving him the same wide berth he had given her. Wheeler was sure she was just as uncomfortable as he was sleeping as they were. This was definitely something Pixie wouldn't be comfortable with. 

The young man tried not to laugh as he, as gently as he possibly could, pulled Pixie away from the edge of the bed. A tiny groan escaped from the young woman, making Wheeler stop and hold his breath. He was not sure what she would say if she woke up and found him doing what he was doing. He'd bet his left arm that it wasn't going to be something good.

Even though she was hurt and he'd never, really, seen her get angry with anyone, Wheeler was very sure Pixie would make an exception for him. Hawk had treated Pixie badly and that had hurt her--- far more than she was willing to admit sometimes ---and Wheeler didn't want to be the one to hurt her like that again. Even making her think he wanted to hurt her like that, betray the trust she had for him because he knew she didn't trust lightly, was something Wheeler didn't want to do.

"Well, now you've committed yourself to doing this," he, mentally, chided himself. "You might as well go all the way now."

Carefully, making sure not to jostle Pixie too much, he brought the sleeping young woman to the middle of the bed. He let Pixie get comfortable again, an easy task considering the deep sleep she appeared to be in. It almost seemed like his moving her hadn't bothered her much.

For a second, Wheeler wasn't entirely sure what to do now that he'd gotten Pixie away from the edge of the bed. He hadn't exactly thought all that far ahead. Nervously because he wasn't sure he was doing the right thing, the young man curled himself around her, throwing one of his arms over her stomach. That way, she wouldn't be able to roll onto her back. She wouldn't be hurting and she'd be allowed to get some much needed rest. Most importantly to Wheeler, as he felt the sandiness of sleep invade his eyes, she'd be happy even if it was just for a few moments. 

Finding that he was comfortable for some strange and unknown reason, Wheeler fell into a deep sleep. Before he succumbed to the graininess in his eyes, he was dimly aware of Pixie taking his hand in her own and cuddling closer to him. 

"At least she's sleeping," was his final thought as sleep finally overtook the once pitcher.


	27. You Only Get What You Give

AN: Well, baseball season has officially started! It's time, yet again, to go to Shea Stadium to watch the Mets play their…err… best baseball. Sometimes I wonder about those boys, I really do. Baseball's always a good reminder that spring's coming, though. I mean, technically speaking spring is here but it won't really be spring until I go to my first baseball game. Though, it'll probably be freezing in the stadium and the cold isn't very springy. It's just cold and uncomfortable and reason enough for me to get angry when the Mets dare to lose. Unlike some fans, I'll make no bold predictions about my team here or anywhere else. After the disaster that was the ending of last season, I'll just do what I do ever year…sit back and wait for my team to blow up. Honestly, they find the most amazing ways to lose. (Then again, they are known as the "Amazin' Mets." There must be a reason for that!) Anywho, this is the wrong place to be talking about baseball. Here's the latest installment in the story of a girl with an elven name, a former pitcher, and a host of other characters. I do hope this chapter came out alright and no one minds the change in point of view for the moment. Then again, I hope no one minds the fluffy stuff either. To anyone out there still reading this mess, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I really do appreciate you taking your time to read this little misadventure. To anyone who's left a review, you rock like a box of socks. Keep them coming and remember I'm open to any opinions…good, bad, or indifferent. Just let me know how I'm doing!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own _The_ _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"But when the night is falling  
and you cannot find the light  
If you feel your dream is dying  
Hold tight  
You've got the music in you  
Don't let go  
You've got the music in you  
One dance left  
This world is gonna pull through  
Don't give up  
You've got a reason to live  
Can't forget you only get what you give…" (From "You Only Get What You Give" by The New Radicals)

A pair of tired boots, belonging to an equally tired person banged along the narrow hallways of the _Shatterpoint_. Once upon a time, the owner of said boots, would have scoffed at the very idea of being bone tired. Even though the crew she worked on was small-- only four people on one ship --she'd never been this tired before. Actually, she hadn't even thought this kind of tired existed in the Real World. She figured that it was the sort of tired that existed in the Matrix the day after college students tried to write a paper in one night.

Not that she knew anything about that one. She'd never been a harried college student. A very rushed high school student, yes, but never a college student. She'd been freed before her college years began.

With something like eleven people to watch three ships and two of the ships lacking power to sweep the area because their long range sensors were down, Chian, the tired and slightly grumpy owner of said boots, was pretty sure she wasn't going to get any sleep. She had already done an early evening watch on the _Logos_, the craft she worked on, and now a graveyard watch on the _Shatterpoint_, the ship that had come to their rescue and was giving them jumps back to Zion.

Someplace between the two, she had done a short watch on the derelict_ Nebuchadnezzar_. A watch that was, in Chian's not so humble opinion, the worst of the three. Just thinking about what had taken place on the ship gave her a creepy feeling up her spine. Everyone heard stories about people who'd turned against their crews, preferring the false reality of the Matrix to the Real World, but everyone thought they were just that. They were just stories; Zion's version of urban legends. To actually see the results of someone turning on their crew-- and, what's more, that crew being one her friend belonged to --made the silent ship an eerie place to be.

At the moment, though, Chian found herself headed for the long hallway on which the bunks were housed. The consensus of captains, Niobe, Mace, and Morpheus, had deemed travel between the three crafts unsafe once it got later, especially given the sensor issues two of the ships were having. As a result of this annoying little edict, Chian had been given a bunk on the _Shatterpoint, _since that was where she would be spending her graveyard shift. The room she'd been assigned for the evening belonged to Elan and Haruun, two of the men who, normally, worked on the _Shatterpoint_. Chian, however, was too tired to care or remember which man was the actual owner of the room.

What Chian really wanted more than anything else in the Real World was to be back in her bunk on the _Logos_, with the prospect of Sparks sneaking in to pay her visit and to help shorten the cold, lonely nights on the ship. It wasn't that Chian minded helping, especially when another ship was in need, but she did mind being displaced for who knew how long.

Between her own ship's loss of power for an unknown reason, and the fact the _Nebuchadnezzar _was more pieces than actual ship,no one was quite sure how long it would be before they were even in throwing distance of Zion. Last she'd heard, they were planning on getting the _Nebuchadnezzar _into limping shape, same as the Logos, before attempting to travel back home. It was a risk-- being attacked while towing to ships in bad condition was a potential disaster in the making --but it was the best they could do given the circumstances.

Getting back to Zion, apparently, was imperative and not just for the usual reasons. No, it was important to get back to Zion in order to figure out just what Neo was. Chian felt bad for the poor guy, really. Since his waking up on the _Shatterpoint_, he'd been bombarded with questions from everyone about how he managed to defeat an agent from the inside out. It was a feat only dreamed about in Zion…the true defeat of an agent.

Looking down the narrow hallway, thoughts of sleep returning with a vengeance, Chian found that she was staring at a line of alike doors set into the wall. She guessed she was supposed to know which was her room for the evening but so much had gone on that she hadn't really paid attention to much of anything. The fight between Hawk and Wheeler had been far more interesting than room assignments.

She was still amazed that the former pitcher had that sort of fire in him. For as long as she'd known Wheeler, he'd been a pleasant, unflappable kid. He looked like the type of person who never let anything get to him. Then to watch him, basically, fight Hawk-- Alright, Hawk did start it but still... --for Pixie's sake amazed her. It made her curious about just what kind of relationship he and Pixie actually had. She knew they were good friends but, after watching Wheeler, she figured there had to be something more there. Something more than two people who were best friends in the Real World.

Staring at the bevy of doors, hands on her hips and a frustrated expression on her face, Chian sighed, "Not funny. Always has to be me."

Figuring she had a one-in-seven chance of picking the correct door, Chian opened the third door from the left. She had no particular reason for picking that door. It was just a random choice and she was tired. All she cared about was getting some sleep before someone dragged her out of bed in order to watch or work or do something she didn't really care to think about doing at the moment.

The door creaked on its rusty hinges as Chian pushed it inward. Taking three steps into the room, all thoughts of sleep were knocked out of the young woman and she skittered back into the doorway, taking in the scene before her. She hadn't found an empty room for her to sleep in. Instead, she came across something else…something very unexpected.

Two figures, who looked more adult than the skittish, awkward teenagers everyone thought they were, were sleeping together in the narrow bed. The way they were curled up around each other reminded Chian of two puppies who had huddled together to keep warm. Not that she blamed the pair of them. It seemed colder on the _Shatterpoint_ than it did on her ship. Maybe it was just her imagination, though, a product of her tired mind.

The funny thing was, the way Wheeler had his arm wrapped around Pixie's midsection seemed to be more than just an effort to keep her warm. There was something slightly possessive about the way he was holding her to him, the way the pair was holding hands in their shared sleep. Chian was sure that if Hawk were to see the two of them like this, he'd have another little outburst. After all, this made it pretty clear where Pixie's heart truly lay.

"They're cute, aren't they?" came a voice from behind Chian.

She turned to find herself facing one of the two tattoo faced woman Mace had on his ship. Chian fished around in her tired mind for a name, coming up with Luminari and hoping she was correct in that assumption. She figured that her luck with odds wasn't exactly the best considering she'd picked the wrong door.

Chian nodded her agreement and allowed the older woman to continue talking. The way she was half staring into the room made Chian think she had something more to say about the situation she'd discovered.

"It's good to see things like that still exist in here," Luminari commented wistfully. "That in the middle this far reaching and destructive war, two Pod Born children can find out that there is still something redeeming about being here. They are never alone so long as they have some kind of connection to each other, be it one of love or of friendship. Of course, we are not talking about Oracles saying this would occur as in Neo's case but it a wondrous thing to see. It helps us all remember that we are not just warriors but humans and that we have hearts. Hearts that some of us need to learn to use more often."

"They're both good kids," Chian stated, sleepily. "They deserve each other."

Staring into the dimly lit room and despite the fact she found herself drifting into a standing sort of sleep, Chain found it strange that Pixie was able to get that close to Wheeler while she slept. In waking life, Pixie would never be able to do that. While she was awake, in the short time Chian had been able to see the pair together; Pixie was, well, Pixie. She just wouldn't be seen curled up next to Wheeler holding his hand. Actually, Chian couldn't recall ever seeing them hold hands in the very short time the three of them had been together.

It took more than a great shove to get Pixie to admit that she had feelings for Wheeler. Well, feelings that extended beyond the normal bounds of friendship. Chian vaguely recalled a conversation the pair of them had about how Wheeler liked her-- her being Pixie --as more than a friend. That was just how blind Pixie was to how Wheeler felt about her. She'd always thought that the pair of them were just friends and nothing more.

It seemed that the logical part of Pixie's mind, the part everyone knew Pixie was far more comfortable with and the part she relied on, had taken a rest and the part of her that was just a normal young woman had taken over. Maybe it was a combination of that and the fact Pixie was hurt. Being hurt could do strange things to people; make them realize things they hadn't realized before.

Oddly enough the type of trauma those two had gone through-- Pixie's beating at the hands of Hawk and the fact the two had nearly lost one another --would make them do even stranger things. Probably another reason why the two of them were cuddled up like that.

Chian was almost ninety-nine percent sure she was going to have a nice long talk with Pixie the next morning. If she, Chian, ever managed to get to sleep first. That was key to being able to wake up the next morning. She had to get to bed first.

"I believe I have the watch after you, Chian," Luminari stated, stretching her arms above her head.

Looking at the confused and tired Chian, the tattooed woman added, "The room you're looking for is the next one on the left. You should find that Elan is absent at the moment. Stars above know what he's doing to Captain Niobe right about now. That boy is trouble."

Chian mumbled a "good night" to Luminari and pulled Wheeler's door closed. Not before sneaking another look at the sleeping pair. She was now motivated to get some sleep on the _Shatterpoint_. Morning wasn't going to come soon enough now.

"No sense in having everyone watch those two sleep," she decided, though Chian knew exactly what she was going to say in the morning once she cornered Pixie.

She just didn't want anyone catching them sleeping like that and catching them first. Not that she thought badly of the pair. In truth, she was happy for them. At least, after all that stress and worry, both Pixie and Wheeler were getting a chance to relax together. That had to be a good thing.


	28. Angel

AN: Well, baseball season is about a week old and I'm already thoroughly annoyed with the New York Mets. It seems as if they've picked up where they left off last season. They're awful…and that makes me sad. Unless they do something fast, it's going to be a very long, very painful season. The only thing that will come of such games-- since I have tickets to every Sunday home game --are more stories about Wheeler. I tend to make up stories about him, during games when the Mets are losing really badly. Actually, I have one idea but I don't want to say anything more about that. I'm not sure I want to write it yet. Anyway, enough about the disaster that is my baseball team. Thanks to everyone who is still reading this mess of the story. I thank you for taking time out to read this story…I really do appreciate it. Everyone who's left me a review…you rock like a box of socks! Remember, I'm open to any CONSTUCTIVE CRISICISM…good, bad, or indifferent.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own _The_ _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"You're a queen and so you should be treated  
Though you never get the lovin' that you needed  
Could have left, but I called and you heeded  
Takin' a beatin', mission completed…" (From "Angel" by Shaggy)

Wheeler woke later than usual the next morning for the first time in a very long time. By "long time" he meant the last time he'd been in Zion. Since Wheeler couldn't really remember when that was-- Mace had a tendency to keep his ship out as long as possible. --he counted figured it had to have been a long time ago. Usually, when he was on the _Shatterpoint_, though, Wheeler was up when he was supposed to be up. Some days, actually, he was up earlier than he had to be…just in case. Mace didn't take to kindly to anyone sleeping in, especially when there was work to be done.

With three ships parked in the middle of some random-- Well, random to him anyway. Wheeler wasn't familiar with the labels for every passageway used by the resistance. -- underground passageway, and one of them completely unable to fly, Wheeler knew there was plenty of work to be done. If he wasn't on the team trying to figure out just what was causing the _Logos_ to lose power every few hours, the young man figured he'd be on the team that was working on getting the _Nebuchadnezzar_ back into, at least, limping shape.

There was no way, not where they were and not given the scant resources they had, that the three combined crews, save Tank and, depending on whether or not she could stand up for more than five minutes on her own, Pixie, could get the _Nebuchadnezzar_ in flying shape. The best they could hope for, at least according to what Mace had said, was to get the _Nebuchadnezzar_ it good enough shape that they could tow it to Zion. Wheeler wasn't exactly too clear on how, exactly, that was going to happen but he figured they'd find a way to do it.

Wheeler knew he had to get up and get to work, before Mace found out he had slept in. Maybe he'd be lucky enough to run into Luminari and she could sneak him into wherever he was supposed to be without Mace knowing he'd slept in. Wheeler wasn't sure if such a ploy would work-- Mace always seemed to know exactly what every member of his crew was up to every hour of the day. --but he figured it beat having to face his commanding officer head on. It wasn't that he was afraid of Mace or of being punished for not doing his job. Wheeler knew that, despite his young age, he had a job and there were lots of responsibilities that went along with it.

Still, teenager as he was, Wheeler wanted to try and figure out a way around Mace discovering he'd slept in. It was a challenge Wheeler couldn't pass up.

The funny thing was that Wheeler knew there was something-- Well, more someone than something-- preventing him from getting up and trying to find out just where he was supposed to be. All he had to do was think for a moment and it came to him just why he really didn't want to get out of his narrow bed that day.

For the first time in who knew how long, Wheeler had woken up warm.

He knew why he was warm too. There was another body in his narrow bed with him. There was another person lying next to him, sharing the bed and her body heat with him. He was being kept warm because another warm body was next to him. Maybe there was something to that whole, sharing space and keeping warm thing the Boy Scouts back home in Arcadia use to talk about. Not that he'd ever been a Boy Scout. With baseball taking up most of his time, he couldn't be even if he wanted to. Actually, his younger brother Arthur-- At least, the boy the Matrix said was his brother. --had been the Boy Scout of the family.

His father had few good things to say about Boy Scouts but, then, his father had few nice things to say about anything. That was just the kind of person he was. Shaking himself free of thoughts of his life in the Matrix, for a moment, Wheeler decided to focus on other things. Things that had to do with his present and why he was warm in his bed.

Wheeler's hazel eyes looked across the bed, expecting to see the back of Pixie's head. Well, maybe not so much the back of her head but the hair that was there. She was the only person Wheeler knew in the entire resistance who kept her hair as long as she did. Not that he was complaining or anything like that. Secretly, he liked the way she looked with her hair kept long. He'd seen her nearly bald and with short hair and neither look seemed to fit her. It was only with her waist length curtain of hair did Pixie look right…in Wheeler's mind anyway.

Instead of the back of her head, though, Wheeler found himself staring at Pixie's face. Well most of it anyway as it was partially obscured by a few tangles of hair that had wound up there during the long night. At some point during the night-- How was beyond Wheeler--, Pixie had found a way to roll over so that she was facing him instead of sleeping with her back against his front. Somehow, she'd managed to curl herself up against his torso so that she was facing him.

Though he was wide awake, Pixie was still fast asleep. Wheeler could only assume Pixie was still asleep because she was actually tired because she didn't get much "real sleep." Before her rescue, the former pitcher imagined, she didn't really get a chance to sleep because they all had to be on guard just in case something happened. Once she'd been rescued, Wheeler knew that Pixie had spent most of her time drugged by Barriss…for her own good. That probably didn't help any either and might have even made her sleepier.

Moving one of his arms-- the one that rested over Pixie's midsection-- Wheeler brushed the hair away from her face, carefully tucking it behind her ear. As he did, a strange curiousness came over the former pitcher. He moved his fingers past her ear, trying not to put pressure on the purplish bruises that covered Pixie's neck and back, and began to explore the back of her neck as if they had a mind of their own.

As his fingers brushed up against the plug at the base of Pixie's head, Wheeler pulled his hand away as if it had been burned.

He'd been looking for that plug, the tell tale sign of a Pod Born like him. He knew Pixie had one, same as he did since they both had come from the Matrix, but he couldn't bring himself to believe that small fact. There was just something about Pixie that made him not want to believe she was like him, like any other person who'd been freed from the Matrix.

Wheeler had trouble picturing quiet, studious Pixie marauding around in the Matrix as a gun toting, black wearing fighter in the resistance against the malevolent machines above them. Sometimes, he had trouble picturing himself going the same but he'd gotten use to the idea now. It was just part of the job he'd taken…no matter how strange that sounded.

The young man never seen Pixie in the Matrix-- Their friendship in the virtual world back then was behind computer screens. Besides, Pixie had said once there was a slight difference in her appearance them so she didn't quiet look the same--but he knew she had gone in. She'd told him about a few of the things she'd done in the Matrix during the short times they were together in Zion. Still it was hard for him to wrap his mind around the fact that Pixie was like him, was fighting for the same cause, in the same way he did.

Wheeler wanted to laugh out loud bit decided not to; he didn't want to wake Pixie.

"If someone would have told me then that I would find being full of metal plug normal," Wheeler mused, watching Pixie breathe and finding, for some strange reason, comfort in that simple action. "I would have told them they were nuts."

Wheeler knew he didn't seem like the hacker type. Hackers were loners, societal outcasts who had no friends save their computers or so he once thought. He'd been closed minded about them, thinking they were just trouble makers or kids who wanted attention.

Wheeler, who was born Robert LaLuce in a tiny town called Arcadia, Texas, wasn't the type of boy anyone thought of as a hacker. At one point, he'd been the star of the Arcadia Hornets, his town's baseball team, with the prospect of becoming a pitcher for Major League Baseball being very real…at one point anyway. Every girl in town wanted something to do with him since they saw him as a way to escape the drudges of small town life.

Looking backwards now, Wheeler knew it seemed as if he had the perfect life. Appearances, though, were deceiving. That, he now knew, was a running theme of the Matrix. Appearances used to deceive those trapped within its virtual confines.

In truth, his life was far from perfect. It was sort of like the Matrix in that way. A glossy outside to hide a rotten interior.

His father, a failed baseball player named Alan, had always been overly critical of him and what he did on the baseball diamond. Even his perfect game, the no-hitter he had crafted, was no good in his father's eyes. According to his father, he had thrown too many pitches and had too many three and two counts. Before his freeing at age fifteen, his father had started suggesting he take "supplements" in order to get some more speed on his fastball. If he had more speed to his pitches, he'd be more likely to start for his high school's team and more likely be noticed by a major league scout.

Faye, his mother and owner of a small general store, had a favorite in his kid brother, Arthur or Artie. She felt his father didn't care enough for the young boy, only spending time with his eldest son because they had baseball in common.

Wheeler had taken to the computer, taken to hacking, because he'd been approached by a woman calling herself Calyx after one of his games what felt like a lifetime ago. She'd told him he had a gift, a gift that many "scouts" didn't want him using. That had made no sense to him, seeming contrary to the actual purpose of a baseball scout. The woman, dressed like something out of the comics books his mother didn't know he read, had told him to look into the story of the disappearance of a young woman named Anneliese Rose, a local girl who'd supposedly been kidnapped years earlier. When he looked into the story, a story everyone in Arcadia knew, he was to look deeper. He was to find out the truth behind the lies everyone had been told.

She'd gone on to tell him that, once he'd gone digging around about the disappearance of Anneliese Rose, he was to look into Major League Baseball's homepage. She'd said he'd find something more than just the 1919 World Series was fixed.

Once he'd figured out that conventional ways of looking for information weren't working for him, Wheeler turned to other less conventional ways. He'd turned to hacking, learning the art from three boys in Arcadia, and found something far more than he ever expected to find.

Wheeler, who'd left the name Robert behind during his time as a hacker and was glad to do so, found that baseball, just like everything else in the world was a farce, a figment some evil scientist had place in his head. Well, that's what his initially thought was anyway. His theory had evolved some as he learned more about the fake world he lived in.

He found friends, too, friends who believed as he did. One of those friends was a female hacker who called herself Pixie. He had helped her fill in the gaps her mentor-- he later found out that mentor was Hawk --was purposefully leaving in her knowledge. Logically speaking, Wheeler knew he'd never get to meet the girl called Pixie. She'd always be a mystery to him, just a name on a screen.

Then a strange man came to talk to him after a baseball game. He promised to show him the truth behind the lies he had grown up with, to tell him what the Matrix was and how it controlled the sport he loved. That had been the last time he'd ever pitched a game of baseball as an Arcadia Hornet.

Shaking himself free from the thoughts about his own life in the Matrix, Wheeler returned his attention to Pixie. He remembered seeing her for the first time in the orphanage, how amazed he was at finding the girl he had helped and chatted and shared theories about the Matrix with and how much she looked like her namesake. The resemblance was stronger then, with the almost nonexistent hair and her thin face.

Pixie didn't look so much like her namesake now. Her hair had grown in to cover her features and she'd put on some weight during her time in Zion. Not much weight-- Pixie was still a little on the thin side. --but enough so she wasn't as thin as someone just freed from the Matrix. Still, there was something very "pixie-ish" about her, no matter how she looked.

Pixie was still sound asleep, though it didn't seem like she was dreaming anymore. She was just lying there, curled up against his chest, her breathing even and regular. Wheeler took a moment to memorize Pixie's features at rest. He'd never seen her look this relaxed before. Usually she was a tense, nervous kind of person. He'd never really seen her truly relaxed looking before

A sudden intake on breath made Wheeler stop what he was doing. He found himself staring into two brandy brown eyes...two eyes that were, currently, wide with confusion.


	29. Bring Me To Life

AN: Heya everyone! Hope everyone's enjoying the start of spring. Though it was freezing here last week, the last few days have been super nice which makes me very happy! I really enjoy the warm weather. I don't do well in the cold at all. I'm one of those people who gets cold and stays cold for a very long time. That's probably not a good thing considering I live in New York and we have some cold winters. The odd thing is that we have cold winters but it hardly ever snows. Ah well….snow's just inconvenient anyway. It piles up and melts into nasty brown slush. Anywho, here's the latest update in my misadventures in the Real World. I promise to eventually find my way back to the movie's storyline. This is just a little aside about Pixie, Wheeler, and their friend Chian. To everyone out there still reading this mess, thanks for taking the time to read this little story. I really appreciate it! To everyone who's left me a review, you rock like a box of socks! By the way, I accept all CONSTRUCTIVE reviews whether they be good, bad or indifferent. If you have something to say, please feel free to leave me a review!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own _The_ _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"How can you see into my eyes  
like open doors  
Leading you down into my core  
Where I've become so numb

Without a soul  
My spirit sleeping somewhere cold  
Until you find it there and lead  
It back home…" (From "Bring Me to Life" by Evanescence)

Pixie couldn't remember much about the night before, other than her being extremely nervous about having to share a bed with Wheeler. It wasn't that she didn't trust Wheeler, per see, but she'd never shared her bed with anyone, much less a boy. Rain had always said to be careful of teenage boys…they always wanted only one thing from girls her age. Maybe, though, Rain had meant that for boys like Hawk but Pixie couldn't be sure. That said, she figured it extended to all teenage boys. Though Wheeler didn't really act like Hawk-- He and Hawk were as different as night and day. --Pixie still wasn't entirely comfortable with their arrangement.

Still, Pixie appreciated Wheeler's offer, despite her discomfort about how they ended up. She knew he was just trying to be nice, to help her anyway he could, and the young woman didn't want to rebuff that kindness. Besides, there was something oddly comforting about sharing a room with someone, especially after what had happened. She figured that having someone to watch her back meant nothing bad would happen to her during the long night.

That was how things went after the Squiddies attacked her ship. Anyone who was able-- including her, despite her back --had to take a turn watching at night so everyone else could get some rest. Pixie could vividly recall jumping at shadows and wondering who in the Real World decided to make nights so long. Though she'd never admit it to anyone, Pixie had been terrified during those long hours.

Without the protection of the ship, knowing that something terrible could happen at any moment, she'd wanted to cry. The first few nights she had, silently sobbing into the sweaters she was wearing. Pixie was well aware of the fact she was supposed to be an adult, doing an adult's job but during those long nights she felt every bit the frightened teenager she actually was. Once she'd run out of tears to cry, all Pixie could do was watch and try not to let her growing fear-- a feeling she'd describe as being akin to feeling as if she had to jump out of her own skin --overtake her.

As for the previous night's events, Pixie recalled falling asleep near the edge of Wheeler's bed--just to make sure he had enough room. She didn't want to crowd him in his own bed, after all. --and curling up against something warm at some point later on. Pixie figured the fact she'd curled up against something warm had to be part of some kind of good dream she was having. Though the _Shatterpoint_ had more heat than her own craft did after the attack, Pixie still found that she was cold.

Alright, she was almost always cold but that was neither here nor there at the moment. Pixie assumed that when she woke, she'd be cold again…just like normal.

Strangely enough, the warm feeling was still there when Pixie awoke the next morning. Apparently, it hadn't been a dream. In a world where everything, from the corridors they walked through to the air they breathed, had a chill to it, Pixie found that she was comfortably warm.

Opening one eye, Pixie discovered just why she was warm. At some point during the night-- How was beyond her --she'd curled herself up against Wheeler's chest. One of his arms was pinned underneath her while she found the other was busy with her hair, moving it away from her face.

Pixie's brandy brown eyes snapped open, taking in the sight of her friend watching her "sleep". There was something very strange and extremely uncomfortable, to her anyway, about being watched while one slept. It was some odd type of invasion of privacy or something like that; Pixie wasn't entirely sure.

The young woman had always disliked people watching her sleep. It had started during her time living in the Matrix. Being in and out of hospitals during a good chunk of her time in the false reality had made her sensitive to the whole being watched as she slept. Pixie figured she'd spent enough time being watched by doctors and hospital staff that she could do without it now.

There was no slow transition from being fully asleep to fully away for Pixie. Conscious thought flooded the young woman's mind and she began to panic. Suddenly, she found herself very uncomfortable in the situation she'd found herself in. More uncomfortable than she had the night before when the pair had decided to share one bed between the two of them.

With more strength than she thought she could muster, Pixie started pushing herself away from Wheeler, using her arms and forcing herself towards the edge of her bed. Though she'd enjoyed waking up warm, she needed to get away from him. She needed to have her own space to think through how she'd just found herself. She'd expected to wake up on the edge of Wheeler's bed, not curled up against him with him watching her sleep. Waking up like that frightened the young woman, making her want to get away.

As soon as Pixie started to try and get away, Wheeler threw his arm around Pixie, hugging her close to him. He felt bad causing her pain-- Since his arms against her bruised back was probably not the most comfortable thing in the Real World. --but Wheeler knew he couldn't let Pixie just push herself away. She looked almost afraid of him for some reason and he didn't want her, in her frightened state, to do something that might make her hurt herself further.

"Pixie, relax. It's me…it's Wheeler," Wheeler chided, keeping his voice soft in an attempt to keep Pixie from freaking out even more. "You have to calm down or you're going to fall out of bed. It's not big enough for both of us like that. You're going to make your back worse if you fall."

The young woman stopped trying to get away from Wheeler for a moment, the confusion on her face mixing with something like the thoughtful look Wheeler was use to seeing Pixie wear. The floor of Wheeler's room was made of grated metal. Metal that was sure to be cold and unforgiving to a back that was already bruised and battered. Someplace in the back of her mind, Pixie knew that she probably shouldn't wind up on the floor. It would do her more harm than good in the long run.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Pixie tried to calm herself down. Her heart was racing-- Pixie was almost sure she'd had a panic attack. --and she felt herself shaking like a leaf. Another reason why she figured she'd had a panic attack. Unsure of what to do with her arms now that she wasn't using them to push away from Wheeler, Pixie folded them against her own chest. She held her hands together, the fingers of her left hand running over her right knuckles in a lame attempt to release some of the nervous energy she still had.

"That's better, Pix," Wheeler chuckled, loosening the hug he had the nervous looking young woman in. "I just didn't want to see you get hurt, that's all. I don't know how we wound up like this. I mean…yeah…I don't know what I mean."

Wearing the ghost of a smile, Pixie put a handful of inches between herself and Wheeler. The shock of waking up in his arms was starting to wear off-- Her heart had stopped racing and she no longer felt shaky. --and, oddly enough, Pixie suddenly found herself strangely comfortable with how she was laying. Though she'd tried to get away from him before, the young woman found that she was unwilling to leave Wheeler's hug because she was warm and, in all the time she had spent on the _Nebuchadnezzar_, she had never felt this warm.

She'd sort of gotten use to waking up cold. Not that she liked it-- Pixie's dislike for the cold was infamous among her small circle of friends --but she'd gotten use to it. Waking up warm, even if that warmth was partly due to her own embarrassed blush, was something she found she was enjoying.

"Sorry," she mumbled, giving the scruffy haired rebel a wan smile. "I probably shouldn't have freaked out like that."

The few times she'd panicked on the _Nebuchadnezzar_ Pixie had been alone. No one else had been awake to watch her shake or to notice that she'd taken to rubbing her thumbs over her knuckles in order to release her nervous energy. She was the only one, during those long, cold watches, to feel her heart race as if she'd run several miles without stopping. Pixie had been alright with that arrangement. It wasn't quite as embarrassing as the situation she'd found herself in at the moment.

Freaking out alone was one thing but doing it in front of someone else, someone she considered better than her best friend, was a whole other story. It was definitely far more embarrassing for one. She didn't want Wheeler to think she'd acted that way because of him. It was more the situation she'd woken to than actually waking up next to him that had caused her to act the way she had.

"It's not your fault that happened. I'd have freaked out too if I woke up next to me," he commented, laughing a bit at his own feeble attempt at a joke. "I've seen how I look in the mornings. It's not pretty."

Pixie laughed, a quiet giggle more than an actual laugh, making Wheeler smile. Wheeler had never liked things being uncomfortable between the two of them. He'd tried to lessen the tension with his lame joke and was glad to see that it worked. The former pitcher remembered just after their first kiss, just before they'd decided to give them being "better than best friends" a chance, and how weird things had been when Pixie came to see him.

He hadn't liked how strange things were between them then and he didn't want a repeat of that now. The two of them, despite the fact Pixie was infamous for her quirky personality, had always been comfortable around each other. Wheeler had always owed that to the fact they'd "known" each other in the Matrix. They weren't starting off as total strangers as most people did when coming out of the Matrix. If anything changed the fact they were comfortable with each other, changed how they'd acted, Wheeler knew he had to fix it.

Besides, he figured Pixie would do the same. He knew she valued their friendship-- Actually, she'd said as much once upon a time. --and that was why they were "better than best friends" and not a couple. Their friendship was more important than any title, no matter what everyone else said they were.

"We can't stay here like this, Wheeler. We're going to have to get up, sooner rather than later," Pixie stated, sounding almost sad about that fact, "Someone's bound to miss us and there's a lot of work to get done."

"How about we just stay here a little longer? I don't know about you but I don't want to let this warmth go to waste," Wheeler countered, cuddling Pixie as if she was a stuffed animal.

Wheeler figured that, from the look on her face, Pixie was torn. He knew she was dedicated to her work, her crew, and to the resistance in general almost to a fault. She'd put whatever she had to do before her own well being without giving it a second thought. Wheeler knew Pixie would probably try to convince someone she was able to work despite the fact she was hurt and, probably, shouldn't be working at all.

What Wheeler didn't know, since he wasn't a mind reader, was that he was absolutely right.

Part of Pixie wanted to get up as she normally did and go help in whatever way she could. She knew whatever she could do was going to be limited-- Logically speaking; she knew her back just wasn't up to par, even after one comfortable night's sleep. --but Pixie didn't want to sit idly by while everyone else worked. She had to do something to help, no matter how small that something was.

At the same time, though, she was enjoying the fact she was able to spend time alone with Wheeler. Once her initial panic had passed, Pixie found that she was strangely comfortable. Waking up next to Wheeler, finding that they were cuddling, was pleasant and something the part of her that was still very much a nineteen year old had wanted, in a way the rest of her mind didn't quite understand.

That part of Pixie's mind wasn't keen on the idea of getting up and going to work. That part of her wanted stay in Wheeler's room for the rest of the day, even though she knew that might get Wheeler in trouble.

"We didn't do anything last night, did we?" she asked, breaking the comfortable silence that was threatening to overtake the young pair.

Even though Pixie felt her face turn redder, she had to ask the question that was on her mind. She knew, or at least she thought she knew, what the answer was going to be, but she had to hear it aloud just to convince herself...just to be sure. She needed to know the answer to her query for her own piece of mind.

Wheeler gave Pixie an odd look and, honestly, answered, "We did nothing last night except cuddle a little. Why Pix? Did you want to?"

The shocked, almost surprised look, Pixie gave Wheeler frightened the former pitcher. He suddenly felt as if he had asked the wrong question or said something to offend Pixie. He wasn't sure what but the look she was giving him made him feel that way.

"No..." Pixie mumbled, at a loss for what else to say. "Did you want to?"

"No….not at all. You're hurt and I wouldn't think of taking advantage of you like that. I'm not like Hawk," Wheeler stated, his tone firm and somehow comforting to Pixie. "I wouldn't do that to you. I wouldn't take advantage of you. I thought you knew that, Pix."

"I did but…I don't know…I guess I needed to hear it," Pixie said, wearing a small smile.

"We all need to hear things sometimes," Wheeler pointed out. "I wasn't going to get angry with you or anything. Just as long as you know I'm not expecting anything from you. Remember I said we could take this as slow as you wanted and I'm not going to break that promise."

"Alright," Pixie stated, snuggling back up against Wheeler. "Taking it slow is a good thing. I'm not very good at this kind of stuff, in case you haven't noticed."

She yawned widely and added, "I like this, though. In a weird way, it feels right."

Wheeler gave her a small smile and kissed the top of her head, saying, "I agree with you there. If I could wake up warm and next to you every day, it might make putting up with Mace a bit more bearable."

Pixie giggled and looked as if she wanted to say something more but the room's door creaked open, making both Pixie and Wheeler jump. With surprising speed, especially for the injured Pixie, the two of them managed to untangle their limbs, breaking the bond and the warmth between them.

Something about that made Pixie profoundly sad. She sort of missed being cuddled like that. She couldn't actually remember ever being cuddled like that, even when she was a child in the Matrix. Her aunt and uncle weren't exactly the cuddling type. Pixie couldn't really remember them even hugging her when she was little. That was just something they didn't often do.

Wheeler sat up in bed, one arm around Pixie as she to sit up too. She didn't really mind Wheeler's arm around her waist but she didn't really understand why it was there. Pixie figured she could sit up on her own. She was a big girl, after all, and had figured out how to sit up on her own a long time ago.

"You don't need to..." she started, speaking to Wheeler.

Pixie's thought was never completed as her muscles in her back woke up and decided that she wasn't going to be allowed to sit up. As soon as she started moving in a major way, they started to cramp up on her. Wheeler's arm around her waist was just helping her sit up; giving her the support her back wasn't very keen on providing at the moment. Pixie tried to fight her way through the cramping but realized that, without something to help relax the muscles and dull the pain, she wasn't going to do much sitting up on her own. Whatever she'd been given the night before had worn off completely.

"I think I do," Wheeler commented, with a gentle smile and a small laugh.

It was the sound of laughter that caught Pixie's attention. She turned her brandy brown eyes towards the doorway. Standing in said doorway, hands on her hips and an amused expression on her face, was Chian.

"So, the little love birds are awake," Chian chortled, watching both Pixie and Wheeler turn startling shades of red as they both realized they'd been busted, "I had to break up the fun you two are obviously having but you're being paged, Wheeler. Mace is none too pleased that you slept in."

Wheeler climbed out of his bed, telling Pixie to stay put for a moment. Unable to actually sit up without leaning on the walls, she let herself fall onto her elbows in order to be able to see the doorway. Not that there was much to see. She could hear Chian laughing, borderline on hysterical now.

"I'm in for an earful later," she decided, a frown crossing her face. "Chian's never going to let me live this one down."

Pixie mumbled a "thanks" as Wheeler brought her boots over, along with his own. Discovering she couldn't exactly get said boots on-- Her back wasn't bending in any way that allowed her to get them on. --Pixie was shocked to find that Wheeler was more than willing to help her out with that too. All she knew was that her face was glowing like the setting sun and Chian was laughing so hard that she was wheezing.

"If you two are finished with your little display, let's shake a leg," Chian called, "I don't want to deal with an angry Mace."

Wheeler threw an arm around Pixie, helping her get to feet and keeping her steady as they walked. It seemed to him that her back was bothering her a bit more today than it did yesterday and she needed the help. There was that and the fact he wasn't keen on letting go of Pixie, especially when he felt her tangle her hand in the hem of his sweater. Maybe she wasn't so keen on letting him go either.


	30. Pressure

AN: I'm sorry it took so long for me to get this chapter together. Despite the fact it has absolutely no fluffy things in it, it took me a very long time to re-write for some reason. I partly blame the New York Mets. See, whenever they start to go on a losing streak, like any good fan, I start altering things I do in order to "help the team win." Yes, I know nothing I do has an impact on how the team plays but every baseball fan still does it. For me, I alter what I write. The Mets went on a losing streak-- as they're prone to doing --and I had to change what I wrote about. Needless to say, I wound up confused and not really writing anything of any importance anywhere. Anyway, sorry again about the delay. To everyone still reading this mess of a story, thank you for taking time out to read my little misadventure, I greatly appreciate it. To anyone who's left me a review or added me to your alert list, you rock like a box of socks. Remember, I'm open to CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM and any opinions…whether they be good, bad, or indifferent!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own _The_ _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"…You have no scars on your face  
And you cannot handle pressure  
All grown up and no place to go  
Psych 1, Psych 2  
What do you know?..." (From "Pressure" by Billy Joel)

"But sir," Pixie started, as she sat on one of the medical bay tables in the _Shatterpoint_. "I'm fine, really. I can work."

Morpheus sighed, looking at the person who'd now become his medic by default. He'd come by the _Shatterpoint_-- He'd spent the night on the _Logos_, with the other captains, discussing what their next move was going to be given their combined situations. --to check on Tank only to find Pixie back in the ship's medical bay. She was awake, with Wheeler for some strange reason, which Morpheus was glad to see. Though he'd found the One, the _Nebuchadnezzar_'s captain, still felt the loss of his crew as keenly as a knife through his heart. Though he didn't mourn Cypher-- He couldn't bring himself to since he'd turned traitor on them all. --but he did mourn the others he'd lost discovering that Neo was the One. It was like losing members of his family.

Having Hawk alive, thanks to Pixie and at the cost of her back, was a cold comfort to the Captain. Sure, Zion's Council would have someone to prosecute for the munity and partial destruction of his ship but it was still a cold comfort to him. The loss of most of his crew wasn't worth having one person to put on trial. It just didn't work out in his head.

Though Morpheus was glad to see Pixie awake, the mere sight of her back made him want to cringe. Several days removed from Hawk's attack and her back was still covered in purple and black bruises. The largest of the bruises-- hematomas really because of their size and severity --along her spine, according to Barriss, were going to take months to heal, at the very least. Those were the bruises that had made Morpheus cringe. With Pixie's permission and an apology because he knew it had to be painful for her, he felt the margins of those bruises. The captain could, literally, feel the edges of the bruises where Pixie's body had created internal sacs in order to hold the pooling blood created by Hawk's attack on her back.

Barriss had said Pixie was in no way at risk for compartment syndrome-- a deadly condition associated with severe bruising. The bruise, in compartment syndrome, cut off blood flow to an area of the body due to the pressure placed on it by the bruise. --since it hadn't developed right away. Still, she'd said that Pixie would have to be closely monitored since there was no way of telling, not on the _Shatterpoint_ anyway, if the bruising was on her lungs and kidneys. It seemed unlikely, since Pixie was alive and not in renal failure or having breathing trouble, but, still, one couldn't be too careful. There was that and the fact, if the hematomas didn't disappear on their own, they'd have to be surgically removed in order to prevent further damage to her body.

Pixie had sighed at the news-- It wasn't anything she hadn't already guessed, really. --more determined than ever to get her back into working order. Barriss had said the amount of muscle injury had to be determined once the swelling had gone down some but she assumed that Pixie was going to lose some range of motion in her back. She'd said that Pixie wasn't going to be able to do things as she once did in the Real World because of Hawk. Pixie logically knew that was true but it didn't mean that she had to like it. She'd figure out a way to make sure her back wound up in its best condition regardless of what happened to her.

"You're injured," Morpheus stated, almost sighing as Barriss gave Pixie another dose of an extremely mild painkiller. "And you need your rest, Pixie. I do not want to risk you further injuring yourself as you try to help. There are enough hands to help."

"But sir," Pixie countered, as her eyes glanced over the label of the painkiller she was being given. "There has to be something I can do to help. I'd feel badly just sitting here and not doing anything."

Pixie didn't like the idea of just sitting around and doing nothing. Actually, she knew, if anything, she'd be confined to the _Shatterpoint_'s medical bay so she could be kept "under observation." Though her back did feel stiff, the combination of painkillers and muscle relaxants-- using the mildest of the lot because Pixie didn't have the best reaction to the stronger stuff --made Pixie sure she could do something. It didn't matter how big or small that something was. She just wanted to do her part. She didn't want to feel useless because she was hurt. Even hurt, there had to be something she could do.

Morpheus looked at Pixie, casting a sidelong glance to the scruffy looking former pitcher perched on a stool next to Pixie. From what he'd heard, Wheeler and Pixie had spent the night together and they'd come down the medical bay with Wheeler, basically, holding Pixie up. At least Wheeler had a valid reason for not reporting to Mace right away. He was with Pixie, making sure she got down to the medical bay to be treated. His staying with Pixie….well that was a whole other story.

Once she'd been treated, though; Pixie's back seemed to be better. Morpheus didn't want to say that it seemed "fine" since it, obviously, wasn't fine. The medication she was on was just masking the pain to make her waking hours tolerable. She wasn't exactly sitting straight up-- Not that Pixie ever did anyway --but she didn't seem to be in pain either.

"You're going to be resting. That is doing something, Pixie. As a medic, you should know that," Morpheus pointed out, watching as Pixie seemed to shrink in on herself for a moment.

The young woman sighed, biting her lower lip in a thoughtful gesture. The idea that she was no longer a medic-in-training was a bit strange to her. She wasn't so sure she liked the idea of being responsible for what was left of the crew of the _Nebuchadnezzar_. Something about having that much responsibility was a bit frightening to Pixie.

At least, back when she'd just been a medic-in-training, she had Dozer to hide behind so to speak. He was the one she reported to and the one she could ask a million and one questions of despite the fact all of her medical knowledge had been uploaded into her head. She wasn't going to forget it any time soon so asking all the questions she did was a moot point.

Still, it made Pixie feel better to have someone more experienced than she to ask. The idea she was going to have to make decisions all on her own was sort of overwhelming. Pixie just liked the idea of having someone to ask question of, even if she rarely did so.

"I know that's doing something, Captain, but I'd like to help out somehow. I'd just like to do my part to get us all back home," Pixie countered with a small frown.

True, she did want to help but that wasn't the only reason why Pixie wanted to go with Wheeler and the others to do repair work. Part of Pixie, the same part that had freaked out when she awoke with Wheeler next to her, really didn't want to be alone on the _Shatterpoint_ with just the unconscious Tank. For some reason-- A reason she didn't completely understand herself. --Pixie was deathly afraid of being left by herself. She, logically, knew there were others around, if not on the _Shatterpoint_ than on the other two ships that were a stone's throw from Mace's craft, but that idea didn't seem to want to settle in her head.

All she could think was that she'd be by herself on the _Shatterpoint_ with no one but a gravely wounded, unconscious Operator and Barriss, maybe, as her only companion. The fact something bad might happen on her watch was enough to cause her to begin to panic. A million and one "whatifs" danced through her head, each scenario worse than the one before it, making her feel as if she had to jump out of her own skin.

Outwardly, she knew she looked "normal" or as normal as Pixie looked but, inside, the young woman felt like everyone in the room could see she was in panic mode. Her face turned an embarrassed shade of red and her attention turned to her hands. Hands that were busy fiddling with the frayed cuffs on the baggy sweater she wore in a poor attempt to release some of the pent up nervous energy she was holding. Pixie found that she was almost desperate to get rid of the energy she felt she was holding. She figured that, if she did, she wouldn't feel as if she had to jump out of her own skin.

Morpheus sighed, looking from Pixie to Wheeler and back again. The young man-- who looked more like a boy than an actual young man --had greeted Morpheus but hadn't said much else the entire time he stood watching Pixie get treated. It didn't seem like he wanted any part of the decision Morpheus had to make about Pixie. Actually, if anything, Wheeler seemed relieved just to have Pixie around.

"Pixie, there's little you can do given your condition. I do not want you risking further injury to your back. As it is…" Morpheus started to say but found himself being cut off.

"As it is," Pixie filled in. "I may not be able to return to my post on the _Nebuchadnezzar_ since the damage to my back may be permanent."

Looking sheepish, she added, "I didn't mean to speak out of turn, sir, but what Barriss said was true. We don't know the extent of the damage to my back and we won't know until we get back to Zion. I'm hoping I can bounce back from it but…I don't know."

She fidgeted a bit and went back to staring at her own hands. The fact she might not be able to work on a ship again was only adding to the panic she was starting to feel. Pixie, despite the dangers and the fact it took her away from her friends, actually really enjoyed her job. To her, it felt as if she was giving back somehow. She'd gotten out of the Matrix and now she was helping to do the same for others. Others whose situations might not have been like hers but, still, they deserved their freedom too.

"There's no use jumping to conclusions," Wheeler pointed out with a frown. "I bet it's nothing. I bet you bounce back from what that dirtbag did to you."

Morpheus looked at the scruffy former pitcher, recalling the fight Wheeler and Hawk had the day before. Whatever was said-- No one was actually sure and neither Wheeler nor Hawk were keen on telling the entire story. --was still a bit of a mystery but Morpheus was almost sure Wheeler hadn't provoked Hawk. Perhaps it was his own anger coloring that judgment, since he wasn't exactly pleased with Hawk and anything he did or said, but, to Morpheus, Wheeler didn't seem like the type to provoke anyone.

Not that Morpheus knew the former pitcher as well as he knew, or thought he knew, Hawk. It was just a guess he was making. Another leap of faith so to speak and not the first he'd made in his lifetime.

Pixie, for her part, shrugged and went back to staring at her hands. She wanted to believe that everything was going to be alright, that her back was going to be fine and she wasn't going to feel so panicky anymore. The problem was, the more she tried to convince herself that everything was going to be fine, the more panicked she felt. Pixie just couldn't get around the idea that things might not be fine. Her mind just seemed to be stuck there and that was making her worry even more.

"It's just that," Pixie said, speaking softly. "I want to help. I might not be able to have this chance to do what I can because of what Hawk did to me."

Morpheus gave Pixie a very skeptical look. He knew there had to be more to her reasoning than her just wanting to help. Not that he doubted her wanting to help. Pixie, in his experience, was always more than willing to help out or to lend an extra set of hands if the situation called for it.

The captain also knew that Pixie knew she shouldn't be doing anything because of her back. True, she was in no immediate danger-- Hematomas didn't throw off or cause blood clots nor did they break and flood an area with blood. --but Pixie was well aware of the fact she shouldn't be working. She needed time to rest and recuperate; despite the fact extra hands meant getting back to Zion faster.

Since only the _Shatterpoint_ was completely functional, the group of resistance fighters were, essentially, sitting ducks. If they were attacked again, their collective chances of survival were very low. Morpheus, as well as the other captains and their first mates, knew this fact and, because of it, getting the _Nebuchadnezzar_, at least, towable and the _Logos_ able to sustain a charge for more than a handful of hours was of the utmost importance. Having an extra set of hands would just make the process that much faster.

Still, Morpheus was loathe to get Pixie involved in the repair work because of her back. She wouldn't be able to lift things nor would she be her, normal, limber self. She'd never be able to wedge herself sideways in order to reach the insides of some bit of equipment so it could be repaired. The captain knew that, if he got Pixie involved, she'd push herself and risk further injury.

With Tank still teetering on the razor's edge between life and death, Morpheus didn't think he could stand seeing another member of what was left of his crew permanently injured. After all, it was a wonder to him and everyone who heard the story that Neo only bore burns and scar tissue where the bullets had hit him. Much to Barriss's surprise, he had no internal injuries, nothing to indicate he'd even been killed.

For those who believed, for Morpheus, the reason was simple. Neo was the One. That was why he had no internal injuries and only the barest of outward injuries. Mace, Niobe, and the others, save Trinity, had their doubts and questions about that but Morpheus didn't. He knew…he believed.

"Sir, really, all I want to do is help," Pixie said, cutting into Morpheus's reverie.

Her pleading voice, the fact she looked scared was what decided it for the captain. Despite her job, Pixie was still a very young nineteen years old. She'd only been working with him for a little over a year. This was her first big accident, the first time she'd seen something like this. If her reaction to her first kill was anything to go by, Pixie was probably an emotional mess, despite the fact she wasn't showing it. She'd already apologized over a dozen times for her not being strong enough to even try and stop Cypher.

Morpheus knew plenty of individuals who suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder, at the worst end, to panic attacks, at the mild end of things, as a result of something that had happened to them while working on a ship. Many didn't return to their posts as a result of that fact. Though he was no medic, he could only guess that Pixie was having some kind of panic related problem. She was genuinely afraid of being left on the _Shatterpoint_ with a bare bones crew.

"Wheeler," Morpheus stated, catching the former pitcher off guard. "I know you are on Mace's crew but we are short handed on the _Nebuchadnezzar_. If I speak with your captain, would you be willing to lend me a hand?"

"Of course, sir," Wheeler stammered, almost falling off his stool. "I wouldn't mind helping you at all."

With a smile that would have made the Cheshire Cat proud, the dark skinned captain added, "Good. As for you, Pixie, you may come with Wheeler and I under one condition."

A small smile crossing her face, the young woman tried to sit up straighter to ask, "What condition would that be, Captain?"

"That you do not push yourself and limit yourself to doing only what is asked of you. You cannot go off and do what you want to. Is that clear, Pixie?" Morpheus ordered.

The young woman nodded her head and answered, "Crystal, sir."

Though she still felt as if she had to jump out of her skin, Pixie felt a bit relieved that she was going to be able to do something to help in the patching up process. That and the fact she wasn't going to be alone. For some reason, being with others made her feel a whole lot safer. Alright, maybe it was just being with Wheeler but Pixie wasn't going to argue semantics with anyone. She was just glad she could help.


	31. Save Me

AN: Hi everyone out there still reading this misadventure. I hope you're enjoying either the end of your school year or just the start of what could arguably be called summer. It's not exactly warm here in New York City-- I had to wear a sweater, jacket, and thermals to the baseball game the other day but it's always twenty degrees cooler in the upper deck at Shea Stadium. --but we have been having some warm days. Just last week it was so warm the studio where I dance was like a swamp…smelled like one too actually, which was really nasty. It was no wonder someone went out the back door and threw up. Anyway, thanks to everyone out there still reading this mess of a story. I'm flattered that you'd take time out of your day to read it. To anyone who's left a review, you rock like a box of socks. Remember, I'm open to opinions…good, bad, or indifferent. Just let me know what you're thinking!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own _The_ _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"All my dreams are fallin' down  
Crawling around...

Somebody save me  
Let your warm hands break right through  
Somebody save me  
I don't care how you do it…" (From "Save Me" by Remy Zero)

Pixie had assumed that "helping" meant she'd be doing something to help repair the ship she called home. Repair work wasn't her strongest suit-- She always felt clumsy doing big patch jobs in the ship. --but she wanted to lend a hand in some way, shape, or form. The young woman figured that getting the ship into, at least, limping order was the most important thing they could do. That and patch the giant hole that had been torn into the _Nebuchadnezzar_'s hull by the squiddies. Pixie assumed that flying around with that kind of gaping hole was probably not a good thing.

There was a Matrix saying about assuming things, one Pixie had heard many times. She hadn't ever given any thought to the old saying but, now, the young woman figured she knew exactly what the saying meant. Pixie found herself as the victim of the evil that was assuming things.

She'd assumed that she'd be doing some kind of limited repair work or something like that. The truth of the situation was that Pixie was unable to do the heavy lifting and the welding work required for such a job. She could hand people tools but that was about the extent of her usefulness in that area.

Instead of helping with the rebuilding of the ship, Pixie found herself tasked with what amounted to clean-up work. A job where she was stuck sitting down-- the second best position for her back next to lying down. --on the ground, away from everyone else doing the big repair work. Pixie understood why she was tucked off in a corner of what had once been the Core of the _Nebuchadnezzar_ but why she was doing what she was doing, well, that still confused her.

At the moment, Pixie was sitting, staring into the dead, mechanical eyes of one of the Sentinels that had attacked their ship. She'd been told, by Morpheus, to strip the head of the mechanical monster of its outer plating and take any usable scrap metal from it. The metal, she figured, would be melted down and used to make other things. The old Zion adage of nothing going to waste was at work there.

"Make sure," Morpheus warned, though he knew he really didn't have to with Pixie on the job and he knew she was thorough to a fault. "To save the motherboard and its memory circuits. Any other circuits will have to be discarded. Understood?"

Looking up from her satchel of tools-- Pixie had been trying to locate a screwdriver that she knew should have been in there. She just wasn't seeing it for some reason, unless it really wasn't there. --Pixie nodded her head and said, "Understood, sir. Is there anything else you want me to do?"

"Once you've completed stripping the head, we'll see how your back is doing. If you're still feeling able, then, you can start on the tentacles," Morpheus told the young woman.

It was odd, really, the fact that Pixie seemed far more relaxed now that she'd been given work to do. Again, Morpheus wondered if the incidents with Hawk and Cypher had some kind of long lasting effect on Pixie. If, indeed, she was having panic attacks, then giving her work to do was the best thing for her. It would give her a focus; give her something to keep her mind occupied so she wouldn't dwell on whatever was causing her to panic. At least until they got to Zion. Once they got home, then someone far more qualified than he was could assess what was truly going on in Pixie's head.

"I'm sure I'll feel fine," Pixie answered with a ghost of a smile on her face. "I can almost guarantee it."

"I'm sure you will," Morpheus pointed out, heading off to get to his own work. "If you need any assistance, just shout. Understood, Pixie? That's an order."

Pixie's inability, if it could be called that, to ask for help was somewhat infamous on the _Nebuchadnezzar_. Even during her time in the Matrix, when she was being watched to find the opportune time to free her, Pixie's dislike for asking for help was noticeable. Morpheus remembered one incident where she'd been ill-- Alright Pixie had often been ill during her time in the false reality that was the Matrix. --and she's blatantly refused to have anyone help her back to her room. She could barely breathe and, yet, she insisted she could walk on her own.

She'd brought that thickheaded mentality with her to the Real World. Though she was a good, compliant member of his crew, Pixie could be thickheaded about asking for help. Because of her thin build, Pixie often found herself assigned to small spaces where the larger members of the crew would never be able to fit. If she needed something, she'd get it herself instead of shouting for someone nearby to hand her whatever she needed. Even if she needed an extra set of hands, Pixie tried to work on her own. She claimed she didn't want to be a bother and that everyone else had jobs to do.

In order to get Pixie to ask for help, Morpheus learned he had to almost order her to ask. She might have been capable of free thought-- Pixie was one of those rare few people who took orders but was able to think creatively at the same time. --but Morpheus knew Pixie was unable to physically buck orders. She always did as she was told, even if that meant asking for help when she didn't want to.

"I don't think I'll need any help, sir, but, if I do, I'll be sure to ask for some," Pixie stated, already engrossed with the task she'd been given.

Morpheus spared one more glance at his medic before going back to work. He knew he'd send Trinity by later to check on her again….just to be on the safe side. If he could pull her away from Neo first.

As soon as Morpheus's back was turned, Pixie took a good long look at the metal face staring back at her. With red, soulless, lifeless eyes, the Squiddie still sent a small shiver of fear up Pixie's bruised back. It was strange being so close to something that had nearly killed her and what was left of the crew of the _Nebuchadnezzar_. Still, even without its eyes glowing a deadly red and its grasping pincers and tentacles waving around, the head of the metal monster still frightened Pixie. She kept expecting its eyes to light up again and for it to, somehow, try and attack.

Logically, she knew that was impossible-- The machine, like most of the ship, had been disabled when the EMP was set off. --but, still, Pixie couldn't help herself. She guessed it was just a feeling anyone who worked within in the fleet would have. After all, the monster she held in her hands was among the most feared creatures, if it could even been called that since it wasn't living, in the Real World. Even inert as it was, Pixie respected what it was. It was a killing machine, a mechanical horror bent on aiding in the destruction of the human race.

Placing the head on the metallic floor beneath her, Pixie started her assigned task. As she worked, she found herself feeling somewhat better. She didn't feel as jittery as she had when she'd awoken in Wheeler's arms. Actually, there was something rather therapeutic about taking apart the head on the ground in front of her. She felt better as she worked.

She'd become so engrossed in said work-- Three large piles were starting to form around her as she worked. --that Pixie failed to her the shouts that echoed through what was left of the _Nebuchadnezzar_. She didn't hear anyone trying to get her attention by calling her name.

It wasn't until Trinity appeared in front of her, kneeling down to Pixie's level and shouting at her, did Pixie look up from her careful dissection of the Squiddie's head. The young woman blinked a few times, her vision refocusing on something other than tiny mechanical parts and small computer chips that she had salvage.

"Sorry, ma'am," she, sheepishly, mumbled as she noticed Trinity was fairly glaring at her. "I guess I got caught up in doing this."

In the same embarrassed tone, Pixie added, "Did I do something wrong?"

Without her work to focus on, and the fact she was being glared at by someone in a considerably higher position of power than the one she occupied, Pixie felt the weirdly familiar sense of panic creeping through her. Suddenly she found herself feeling as if she wanted to jump out of her own skin. That was the best way, she found, to describe what she was feeling. It was almost as if slipping out of her own skin was the best and only solution to stopping the panic that was growing in her.

"We've been calling you for a while, Pix," Trinity answered, her tone serious enough to make Pixie feel worse. "There's been an accident and we need your help."

The young woman scrambled to her feet, standing as fast as she could manage given the situation with her back, and asked, "What happened?"

Trinity was already walking away from her forcing Pixie to scurry in order to catch up with her. She wanted to know what she was walking into, hoping that knowing something of the situation she was about to walk into would stop the pounding of her heart as it tried to break out of her chest and the ice water that was starting to course through her veins. The young woman had pleaded to leave the _Shatterpoint_ in order to avoid having to deal with the sense of dread she had-- The sense of dread, of impending doom, that always seemed to chase right after panic started to grown in her. --and now whatever she'd been fearing, that something she couldn't quantify even if she wanted to, had followed her to the _Nebuchadnezzar_.

That just didn't seem fair to Pixie. As hard as she tried to get away from whatever she was afraid it, it still came after her. The young woman was well aware of the fact she was giving fear more power than it actually had but, by the same token, Pixie found she couldn't help herself. The more she tried not to think about how unfair the situation was, the more she found herself dwelling on it.

"Wheeler was working with Neo and I, trying to patch up the hole in the hull and Neo's grip must have slipped on the patch we were using. We think he may have broken at least three of Wheeler's fingers," Trinity said, speaking to Pixie over her shoulder as they walked.

For a moment, after hearing Wheeler's name, Pixie's heart sank to somewhere around her knees. She, suddenly, had a very good idea of how Wheeler had felt when he'd found out something had happened to her ship. It was a sinking feeling that she just wasn't comfortable with having.

Finding out that it was just broken fingers, something simple and not exactly dangerous, made Pixie feel just a bit better. Broken fingers were something she could deal with, even with the feeling of panic she was still harboring. It was one of the earliest injuries that Dozer had taught her how to fix. That thought, about her early training, upset Pixie. She was going to miss Dozer, just as she was going to miss the others that had died.

Well, maybe not Cypher. Him she wasn't going to miss. After all, he was the one who, basically had managed to cause all of the problems they were having now. He was the one who wanted to turn away from the truth because a lie seemed better than the world they were living in. Pixie much preferred the truth to the lies, even if the lies she'd labored under had felt so real they were scary. The truth might not have been as…cushy…as the Matrix but the young woman preferred living and being healthy to dying and being comfortable any day of the week.

Turning around to let Pixie catch up, since she was still moving slower than normally because of her injuries, Trinity added, "Neo isn't exactly the most useful person when it comes to repair work. I guess Tank skipped those programs when he was training him."

Pixie shrugged and pointed out, "He always thought they were boring. I guess repair work isn't exactly as flashy as martial arts or anything like that."

A silence fell between the pair as they continued on to the accident site. Tank, Pixie knew, was fighting for his life in the _Shatterpoint_'s medical bay. They'd tried to treat his burns as best they could but the exposure to the cold wasn't exactly making that easier. Pixie had snuck a look at his chart after being taken to see Barriss earlier on in the day. It seemed that Tank's burns had become infected with a particularly vicious strain of bacteria. The notes Barriss had taken said he was being treated for septic shock, something Pixie knew to be fatal in fifty percent of cases.

Not exactly the best prognosis anyone could hope for. Even with antibiotics and as much medical support as the _Shatterpoint_ could provide, the outlook still wasn't good. Pixie wasn't even sure getting to Zion as fast as humanly possible-- Since their medical center was far better equipped than any onboard any ship. --would make the situation any better. There were just too many variables, too many things that could go wrong to account for where septic shock was concerned.

Reaching the sight of the "accident," such as it was, Pixie almost wanted to start laughing. Wheeler sat on the floor Indian style, with what she presumed was his injured hand in his lap. It looked almost as if he was pouting as he sat there with a scowl on his face.

"Sorry, sir," Pixie said as soon as she caught sight of Morpheus. "I got caught up in what I was doing and, I guess, I didn't hear what was going on. I should have been paying more attention."

"It's alright, Pixie," Morpheus stated, noticing that she'd gone back to fiddling with the cuffs of her sleeves just as she had been doing in the medical bay of the _Shatterpoint_ and most of the previous day as she was interrogated by the other captains. "It seems your friend could use some assistance, though."

Pixie nodded and went over to Wheeler, who looked half glad and half embarrassed to see her. He'd been working with Neo and Trinity-- in silent awe of the fact he was working with them. Nothing against the _Shatterpoint_ and his own captain but Trinity was famous. Probably among the top ten most famous people working in the Resistance. --when the large piece of metal he and Neo were holding slipped out of the older male's hands. Wheeler had tried to catch the sheet but found that it only managed to badly jam the fingers on his left hand. There was something very vaguely amusing about that fact, considering, in the Matrix, he'd been wary of doing things with his left arm lest he injure it and find himself unable to play baseball anymore. Now here he was with what could possibly be a broken left hand.

"Pixie, would it be easier for you to take Wheeler down to the mess hall so you have more room to treat him?" Morpheus wanted to know, noting the mess around them and the fact Pixie had very little room to work.

Pixie nodded and answered, "If it's alright with you that we leave, sir."

Morpheus nodded and watched as Pixie and Wheeler, one hobbling slightly and the other cradling his offended hand, headed through the destruction that had once been the core of his ship. Pixie wasn't her normal nimble self as she wandered through the debris field, trying not to cut herself on bits of metal that were sticking out of the ground. Wheeler followed after her, seemingly trying not to jostle his injured hand.

Pixie, as she sidestepped what had once been some essential bit of equipment in the Core of the ship she'd called home, hoped Wheeler was able to manage walking on his own--that it was only his hand that was injured --since she didn't think she could support his weight. Even if her back was in working shape for the moment and thanks mostly to the medication she'd been given, Wheeler was still heavier than she was. There was no way in the Real World she'd be able to support his weight and her own at the same time.

"Sparks," Trinity said, in a lower voice. "Go with them."

The Operator, who'd been on the _Nebuchadnezzar_ trying to get their Matrix software up and properly running again, gave Trinity a questioning look, spinning around in his chair and commented, "They're not going to do anything. She can barely move."

"That's why you're going with them," Trinity snapped. "Pixie could use a hand if Wheeler finds himself unable to walk."

"Because of a broken hand?" Sparks quipped. "You sure you're feeling alright?"

"The plating might have clipped him on the head," Trinity countered. "Just go with them, will you?"

With an aggravated sigh, Sparks stood from his seat and followed after the pair of nineteen year olds. He mumbled under his breath as he trudged after the young pair. Sparks had wanted to do his job and get back to his own craft. He had work to do there too.

"Sparks," Trinity called, forcing him to look back. "Be nice or I'll tell Ghost."

Pixie could usually go from the Core to the mess hall in a very short amount of time. Not so on this day. The halls were filled with metallic garbage that was either going to be discarded or used for other reasons. That was one of those givens in Zion...if it could be reused; it was going to be reused. Nothing was ever discarded unless it was completely necessary.

Pixie was starting to grow annoyed with the fact she wasn't moving as fast as she was use to. The painkillers she'd been given back on the _Shatterpoint_ seemed to be wearing off as her back was starting to feel stiff and sore. The ladders that connected the ship's levels proved especially tricky as her back decided not to cooperate nearly every time she approached one.

Wheeler wasn't exactly having the easiest of times with ladders either. His knuckles, particularly on his left hand-- also known as his pitching hand--, were slightly swollen making it painful to close his fist. That said, Wheeler couldn't get a good grip on the rungs to climb down after Pixie.

It seemed odd and out of place but, through the empty metal corridors of the _Nebuchadnezzar_ laughter could be heard. Pixie was in hysterics as she heard Wheeler's half mumbled curses every time he tried to climb down another ladder. She'd never heard Wheeler use such…coarse…language in front of anyone. Especially in front of females.

"What's so funny, Pix?" Wheeler asked as he walked into the silent mess hall a head of Pixie who'd paused just outside its entrance.

It took an effort for Pixie-- whose heart start to race and the "jumping-out-of-her-own-skin" feeling returned in a big way --to even consider following Wheeler into the mess hall. She hadn't been in the room since that day not too long ago when Cypher decided to turn Morpheus over to the Agents and, basically, bring an end to Zion. It felt weird to be going into that room again. Too much had changed into too short a period of time for her liking and all the changes had started, for her anyway, with Hawk in that very room.

"You're being irrational, Pixie. It's just a room. A room can't hurt you," she chided herself, before stepping into the once comforting and friendly space that had, suddenly, become frightening and alien.

When she mustered the courage to enter the room, Wheeler was sitting at the rusty, scared table, shivering slightly and staring at his left hand. A frown creased his face as he flexed his fingers a few times, trying to make a fist and finding that it was harder than it should have been.

"I use to avoid doing anything left," he commented, as Pixie sat down across from him and took his injured hand in both hands.

Pixie looked up from checking Wheeler's hands for broken bones--well, checking for the most part. Pixie had come to noticed that, aside from her little panic attack when she'd awoken in his arms, being around Wheeler helped to calm her down. --with a slightly confused expression on her face. She knew all about how Wheeler use to be a pitcher and, from what she'd heard a pretty good one. Pixie just wasn't sure if that has something to with his half mumbled comment of not.

"I was a lefty pitcher in the Matrix," he explained, though Pixie already knew that fact. "At one point, I was actually trying to teach myself how to do things right handed so I'd run a lesser risk of hurting my left one."

Taking note of Pixie's still befuddled look, he added, "It's more common than you think. A lot of pitchers in the Major Leagues did it. I guess I wanted to be just like them once upon a time."

Wheeler turned his attention his hands, watching Pixie as she felt her way around his hands with her own trained fingers. Her brandy brown eyes were down, following his fingers as she took them one at a time in her own hands. Her mind was focused on her work, feeling for anything grossly out of the ordinary. Pixie, the nineteen year old part of her anyway, was trying to avoid thinking about the fact she was under Wheeler's hazel gaze. He face had already turned a bright shade of red when she realized his gaze was fixed on her.

Her expression displeased, Pixie finally picked up her head to meet Wheeler's gaze. Well, for a second anyway. His eyes made her blush deepen and she returned her eyes to the table between them.

"Your right hand is completely fine as far as I can tell but you jammed the index finger on your left hand pretty good," Pixie explained, in a low voice. "I can fix it for you but it's going to hurt. I don't have anything to numb it with, sorry."

"How about this," Wheeler countered, looking at his disjoined index finger and giving it a good hard tug. "I'll fix it myself and you can tell me if it's alright."

Pixie made a face as Wheeler tugged on his own finger, realigning the joints and straightening the digit out. She was planning to do the same thing but was kind of glad he did it first. That way she didn't have to make an idiot of herself if she wasn't strong enough to fix his finger which was entirely possible. It took a great deal of strength to snap joints back together. Pixie was glad she had yet to face a separated shoulder or knee. She was almost sure she wasn't going to be strong enough to fix that on her own.

The young woman ran her hands along the now fixed digit and pointed out, "Well, I was just going to do that but you got there first. Everything seems alright now but I still want to buddy wrap it just to give it some extra support. I don't have the means to make a proper splint, sorry."

Pixie went to get up and walk down what was left of the medical bay in the hopes of locating a roll of medical tape. Much to her surprise a roll of said tape-- which looked remarkably like the duct tape used to repair the pipes on the ship --rolled across the table. Pixie looked up, confused as to where the tape had come from, and spotted Sparks, calmly leaning across the far end of the table. He caught her eye as she looked up at him and nodded just to show that he'd spotted her staring.

As soon as she noticed Sparks, Pixie's face turned an interesting shade of red and she turned her attention back to Wheeler's injured hand. It wasn't just that Sparks had been in the room while she examined Wheeler's hands that had made her turn red. Pixie had her own reasons for blushing whenever she saw Sparks.

Once upon a time, Pixie had paid her friend Chian a visit and had, on that day, seen more of Sparks than she ever cared to. Since seeing him in such a…compromising…position, she hadn't been able to look at him straight in the eye. Pixie was almost sure that Sparks knew he made her bush-- Probably thanks to Chian --which was why he'd caught her eye.

"There you go," she told Wheeler, still trying to ignore Sparks and finishing taping Wheeler's left index finger to the digit next to it. "All better now."

"How am I supposed to work with my fingers like this, Pix?" he asked, curiously.

Pixie shrugged slightly, unsure of how to answer Wheeler's question. He'd just have to figure it out much in the same way she had to figure out how to work with her limited range of motion for the moment. It would take some creative thinking but Pixie was pretty sure Wheeler was up to the challenge. Anyone who managed to get out of the Matrix had to be capable of some creative thinking.

"We should probably get back…" Pixie started, directing the comment towards Sparks but not looking up to meet his eyes.

"I think he should get back," Sparks corrected, pointing to the scruffy looking former pitcher who was still trying to flex his now taped fingers. "You're supposed to go over to the medical bay here and see what's salvable. Mace and Captain Niobe want to know what supplies you have on here that can still be used."

Pixie gave Sparks a skeptical look, somehow hoping he was kidding. If anything, she wanted Sparks to go back to the Core and Wheeler to come with her to the_ Nebuchadnezzar_'s medical bay.

That happening, though, was highly unlikely. Wheeler was a rebel, plain and simple. He knew more about how to repair a crippled hovercraft than how to test a sensitive piece of medical equipment. Sparks, the only person on his ship who couldn't go into the Matrix, was more able when it came to medical equipment. He knew what to do in case of an emergency when the rest of his crew was in the Matrix.

"Who gave you that order?" she asked, anyway.

"Morpheus as I was leaving the Core," Sparks answered. "Chian said that you're not the type of person who breaks the rules. That means, you're going to do it whether you like it or not."

Chian had her pegged very well. She was definitely the type who didn't break rules unless she really had to. Though she didn't really want to be in a small space with Sparks, she'd still go because that was what she'd been told to do.

"Can you find your way back to the Core?" Pixie asked, turning away from Sparks and facing Wheeler with a small frown on her face.

She knew it wouldn't be fun for any involved if Wheeler got lost in the ship. There were still parts of the deck that were unsteady and needed to be repaired. An accident was begging to happen.

"I think I can manage," Wheeler said with a sigh. "If I get lost, I'll just yell until someone finds me. I think the echo will make finding me pretty easy."

He started to laugh at his own comment, making Pixie laugh along with him. Sparks looked at the pair and made a mental to note to tell Chian to do something about her friend. They were entirely too giddy for their own good, it seemed. Either that or they were both having little bouts of insanity because of the stress they were both under.

Pixie waited, though, until Wheeler climbed up the first ladder he'd encountered. Every time he went to grab a rung and climb higher, he swore, laughed, and kept climbing. Apparently he was going to have to get use to having two less-- or one less depending on how you looked at it. --fingers.

It was only after she was sure Wheeler was going to be alright climbing did Pixie turn to Sparks and say, "Alright, come on."


	32. Miss Independent

AN: Hiya everyone! Other than my New York Mets stinking up the National League, there's not much to report on. Actually, the only other thing I have to report is that I am now sporting a purple and blue foot thanks to an accident in my tap class. I was dancing and I went flying in my tap flats. I managed to turn my ankle and bruise my entire foot at the same time. Honest to Bilbo, I thought I broke the thing…which wouldn't have been good at all considering our show is next month! I couldn't really walk for two days-- did a lot of hobbling around the house because I'm really not good with sitting still for long periods of time --but I did figure out today I can walk! I was so excited! I went to dance class tonight but I really couldn't do a lot because of my foot being bruised up and kind of sore still but I had to try just to prove to myself that I was, at least, partially alright. Hope everyone has had better luck than I had this week! Anyway, thanks to everyone still reading this mess of a story. You're all the best for taking time out to read this story. To anyone who's left a review, you rock like a box of sock! Remember, I'm open to opinions…good, bad, or indifferent. Just let me know how I'm doing!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own _The_ _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"What is this feeling taking over?  
Thinking no one could open the door  
Surprise, it's time, to feel what's real…" (From "Miss Independent" by Kelly Clarkson)

It seemed like an age before the hardworking group of resistance fighters, including one injured Pixie, managed to get the _Nebuchadnezzar_ into towing shape. The hole in the ship's hull had been patched-- a temporary measure until they got to Zion and more permanent repairs could be made --and most of the ship's systems had been brought back online thanks to Sparks and Haruun, the Operators from the _Logos_ and _Shatterpoint_ respectively. Tank was floating in and out of consciousness, unable to help really but still lucid at times to point out quirks in the _Nebuchadnezzar_'s operating system.

Pixie, her back still a mess and her panic attacks still bothering her, saw that as a good sign but she didn't want to get her hopes up. She figured that if she did and something bad happened, she'd just wind up feeling betrayed again. Instead, she took a few mental steps back and watched the situation carefully. Pixie was glad, true, but it was a guarded sort of glad. The kind of glad that was conditional, dependent on the situation and how she was feeling at the moment.

At the current moment, all Pixie could feel were the butterflies that had taken to winging around her stomach. It seemed like forever since Pixie had last done this and she couldn't help but be nervous. The last time anyone she knew had done this, she'd been stuck on the ship, treating Hawk for a condition that he didn't have. That event had been the start of the worst run of days Pixie had, in recent memory anyway.

The false reality that was the Matrix probably created really bad days for her. It just depended on how she looked at them…whether or not those days actually happened because it was the Matrix. Pixie wasn't sure how she felt all the time when it came to the memories she had of her time as Diane--whether or not those memories counted because they were all just in her head. --but those bad days, well, they felt bad enough to count as real.

There was nothing else they could be.

Either way, Pixie felt butterflies in her stomach and she could sense the beginnings of the slipping out of her own skin sort of feeling. Her eyes were wide, slightly fearful, as Morpheus came behind her preparing to jack her into the Matrix.

The Captain, acting as Operator for his crew of three, checked the monitor hanging near Pixie as he inserted the jack into the back of her head, sending is injured medic into the Matrix with Neo, Trinity, and several others. Her heart was racing and, for reasons unknown to anyone other than Pixie, her alpha brainwaves showed she was panicking.

Morpheus sighed, a weary sound, counting Pixie among the causalities of Cypher and Hawk's betrayals. He'd request she'd be checked out formally once they reached Zion but, if her brainwaves were any indication, the young woman had probably developed a panic disorder thanks to Cypher and Hawk's betrayal. If that was the case, then Morpheus could only hope Pixie had enough character-- enough strength in her body --to overcome the attacks she was having.

If not, if she let the often paralyzing and irrational fears brought on by panic attacks get to her, Pixie would be forced to remain in Zion. Having her on the ship would be a liability if she couldn't control her own fears. With someone as rational as Pixie could be, when the mood struck her of course, Morpheus hoped she could get over her fears simply by thinking through them.

Sitting down in the Operator's chair, Morpheus turned his attention to the goings on in the Matrix. He, like Mace and Niobe would be watching what happened instead of taking an active part. Since they could not decide on which captain should go in as back-up, none of the captains got involved. Instead, their first mates and the rest of their crews were to take part…believer or not.

Pixie, who'd felt her ears pop as she entered the Matrix, had never been part of a multiship broadcast. Truth be told, the young woman wasn't even sure how everyone was going to get into the Matrix using the same telephone. That didn't really seem safe to her but she wasn't the one making the decisions. Pixie figured that she just had to trust her captain, and the other captains, when it came to making decisions about this mission.

The hard line--an old rotary telephone --sat in an ancient, crumbling abandoned train tunnel. The sort of tunnel that was blocked off because the trains no longer used that route but was supposedly home to "mole people," humans who lived underground and were or were not cannibals, depending on who you talked to. The black phone rested in a niche on the wall, carved out of the crumbling brick. Its ring was a silent cry, echoing through the system of tunnels and sending the rats, the only life Pixie could see, scurrying away. Bare light bulbs flickered overhead, casting pools of brightness all around the dank tunnel.

It took a moment but Pixie quickly realized that she was standing between the crumbling, cobweb covered wall and a black clad figure that Pixie assumed was Trinity. The tunnel, though quite spacious, seemed a bit tight given the amount of bodies crammed into it. At least that's what Pixie, who had to take a few deep breaths in order to stop her heart racing and to quell the panic rising in her, felt as she slipped away from the wall in order to find more air for herself.

The young woman stared from her own crew-- She knew what both Neo and Trinity looked like when they went into the Matrix. --to the others that had gone in with them. With two friends on different crews, Pixie was more than a little keen to see what they looked like in the Matrix. After all, during their time in the Matrix, Pixie hadn't the opportunity to see what Chian and Wheeler looked like. They'd just been names on a computer screen to her much in the same way she'd been just a name to them.

Chian loudly swore, using words that would have made a sailor in the Matrix blush, earning herself a reproachful look from black suit without a tie clad Ghost. Her voice was so loud-- Chian seemed to have no control over the volume of her voice. She was either whispering or very loud. There was no in between for her. --that it echoed throughout the tunnel. Anyone with a keen enough ear could just follow the echo and figure out just where they gathered group was standing.

"Let's go," Trinity stated, leading the way out of the tunnel.

Neo walked along side her, just a small space between them, while the others-- Pixie, and the members of the crews of the _Logos_ and _Shatterpoint_ --walked behind them. Pixie tried to catch up with the others but found her way blocked by, not only Depa and Ghost but by a very amused looking Chian as well.

Outside of a training session back before Neo had been freed, which seemed like a whole other lifetime ago, Pixie hadn't seen any of her friends in their actual Matrix clothing. Many times, what they wore to train in the Construct different from what they actually wore in the Matrix. It wasn't a hard and fast rule but it tended to be true, as far as Pixie could tell.

Still, there was just one issue in her not seeing her friend sin what they wore in the Matrix. They hadn't exactly seen her in what she wore in the Matrix either. Pixie, herself, still hadn't come to terms with the clothing she wore while in the Matrix. In truth, she wasn't entirely sure why she dressed the way she did.

Chian paused in front of Pixie, hands on her hips and a grin on her face. The older female was dressed in black pants-- They looked like jeans but Pixie wasn't sure. --with an old looking t-shirt on, displaying the name of what Pixie assumed was a musical group of some kind. Over the shirt, Chian wore an old fashioned, long black coat that reminded Pixie of a gunslinger's jacket out of an old western. As if to compliment the old west look, there were high heeled boots Chian's feet. Boots that Pixie decided weren't practical in the least for running unless Chian had the ability to run in high heels.

"What happened to you?" Chian asked, her tone shocked as she gawked at Pixie.

"What's wrong?" Pixie responded, sounding more than a little concerned as she felt her heart begin to race again.

She'd thought Chian had noticed something was amiss with her and the thought of her being as injured in the Matrix as she was in the Real World frightened her. Pixie back was bugging her-- Her Real World injury had transferred into the Matrix though the medication she'd been given had dulled the discomfort some. --but she figured it wasn't that obvious. She'd gotten use to her back being achy and had learned to walk normally in spite of it. Now if she could just figure out a way to return to her normal stretchy form even with the bruises, Pixie would be happy.

"What in the name of the One are you wearing?" her Chian blurted, some laughter seeping into her voice.

Pixie looked down at herself, taking stock of what she was wearing at the moment. Instead of wearing a high black turtleneck bodysuit, she wore a long sleeved, scooped neck bodysuit and shiny black pants made out of spandex or some other stretchy material. Low black boots, a short black leather jacket, and her hair in a severe looking braid completed the outfit.

She saw nothing wrong with what she was wearing--it was atypical for her. She'd always found herself clad in spandex dancer's gear despite the fact she'd never been a dancer in the Matrix. The fact she'd somehow wound up in black spandex had earned Pixie the rather unflattering nickname of "The Spandex Ninja."

Pixie gave a half hearted shrug and said, "This is what where whenever I go into the Matrix…mostly anyway. The bodysuit tends to change for some reason."

"Does that include that shiny thing around your neck?" Chian pressed, jogging backwards in her heels now to keep up with the rest of the group.

Pixie put a hand up to her neck, trying to figure out what her friend was talking about. Her fingers brushed past the metallic pixie that she had received from Wheeler on her eighteenth birthday, on the night before they'd all shipped out of Zion for the first time. She had forgotten all about it since it was just part of who she was. Pixie only took the metallic item off when she bathed otherwise it was on her at all times just as a little reminder of not only Wheeler but her proclamation that none of them-- not her, Wheeler, Aisling, Adoh, or Ngaio --would die because of the war. They'd all be together at the end, celebrating their freedom somehow.

"Yup, that's always on me too," Pixie answered as her face slipped into a silly little grin. "Keeps me safe just like Wheeler said it's supposed to."

"You and he are a couple of lovesick fools, even if you don't want to admit it," Chian commented, now laughing loudly.

"Are you two coming?" called Depa, interrupting the conversation the two friends were having and spurning them to hurry after the others.

Giggling a little, she often giggled when talking about or to Wheeler for some reason, Pixie jogged a bit ahead of Chian, making her way into the group that was walking before them. While she was talking, they'd made their way up the tunnel, heading for a destination Pixie couldn't see.

Chian shook her head at Pixie-- She was a thickheaded, blind girl if Chian ever saw one. -- and chased after the younger female, making her way back towards the group as well. Chian didn't want to fall too far behind and possibly miss out on what was going to take place. There were days when she didn't enjoy the missions she found herself being sent on but today wasn't one of those days. This was something, Chian figured, was only going to happen once so she'd better take advantage of it.

Winding their way back to the surface and climbing up a ladder so rusty Pixie was convinced it was going to crumble under their combined weight, the group stopped to get their bearings in tiny alley that smelled of Chinese food, fried chicken, and rotting garbage. Fake or not, it wasn't exactly the best smell in the universe. It still burned the nostrils and nauseated most of the stomachs of the black clad group.

The street outside the alley, what little Pixie could see anyway because she was shorter than most of the others, was busy full of bustling figures moving to and fro, going about their daily business. Pixie felt mildly sorry for them, still trapped in their little pods unaware that their lives were nothing more than a computer generated dream they were all having. Their lives were just a dream happening before their very virtual eyes.

Thinking about eyes, Pixie felt someone's attention focused on her. It was as if a large pair of eyes had fixed themselves to where she was standing in the tightly packed crowd.

The young woman turned her attention away from the instructions that were being given by Trinity and Ghost. She'd heard them from Morpheus-- just like everyone else had heard them from their own captains. --before being jacked into the Matrix. The only hole in that knowledge was the fact she didn't know where she'd be standing guard and who was going to be looking out with her. Since there were only three on her crew at the moment and everyone sort of knew Trinity would be watching Neo's back, Pixie figured she'd be paired with someone else from one of the other ships.

Pixie followed the staring feeling a short distance to her right, finding a shocked looking Wheeler openly gawking at her. His bright hazel eyes were as wide as saucers causing Pixie to blush and her own eyes to turn their attention to the tops of her low boots. She guessed that her choice-- It wasn't really her choice. It was just what she always seemed to find herself wearing. --of clothing in the Matrix had caught him off guard. Not that it didn't catch her off guard some days. Her clothing in the Matrix was a far cry from what she normally wore.

Dragging her eyes away from the tops of her boots, Pixie noticed that Wheeler was dressed rather simply. He wore plain black jeans and a back button down dress shirt that was tucked into his pants. Despite the heat, he wore a loose leather jacket and his hands were tucked into said jacket's pockets. On his feet were black boots-- Heavier looking than the ones she wore. --and covering his eyes were round black sunglasses.

Even in the Matrix, Wheeler's dirty blond hair still looked scruffy. That fact made Pixie smile a bit; glad that it wasn't just how he wore his hair in the Real World. Once upon a time, back in his Matrix days, he had the same scruffy looking hair.

Pixie, for her part, had donned her oval sunglasses just after she shimmied up the ladder and found herself in the glaring Matrix sunlight. She didn't mind the sunglasses, actually, even though they just added to the whole "spandex ninja" look she had going for her. At least that's what everyone else said anyway.

"Pixie," Trinity snapped, catching Pixie's attention and forcing her to look away from Wheeler. "Go with Wheeler up there. You two will be covering that rooftop over there."

Following Trinity's line of sight, Pixie squinted into the sun-- Sunglasses or not, the Matrix sun still took some getting use to. --to find herself staring at medium height roof, overlooking a tiny, almost nondescript street corner. She didn't exactly understand why that particular roof was important but Pixie decided to trust her superiors instead. If they said that roof was important, then she figured it was important. She'd do her best to see that the roof, and the corner it overlooked, remained safe.

"Make sure to keep your phone open," Trinity reminded Pixie as the younger female turned to leave.

Pixie nodded her head and, tugging on the sleeve of Wheeler's jacket, the two began to trek across the street to their lookout point. Both knew the key to getting there without attracting any unwanted attention was to act as casual as possible. That was difficult when one had weapons strapped to their back and wore clothing that was a sharp contrast to the mode of dress of everyone else along the street.

"Those two are going to behave themselves, right?" Ghost asked, in an undertone.

"Pixie has a job to do so she won't do anything else. She's too dedicated to let the fact she has a thing for Wheeler get in the way of what she's suppose to be doing," Trinity replied.

"If anything goes wrong, you can always blame Luminari," Depa commented just before heading off with Chian. "It was her idea anyway. Said it would good for the two of them to work together."


	33. With You

AN: Hiya everyone! This might, possibly, be the next to last chapter in this misadventure. I know that comes as a bit of a shocker but, have no fear, there's a bit more after it. Well, technically speaking, there's quite a bit more but that's not here nor there. Anyway, this chapter was a bit of a pain to write. I'm not very….comfortable… writing the fluffy sort of stuff found here. It always takes me quite a bit of time to do for some reason. To everyone who's still reading this mess of a story, I greatly appreciate you taking time out of your day to do so. I'm still surprised people are reading anything I write. I only wrote this to pass the time between classes. To everyone who's reviewed or put this story on alert, thank you very much! You all rock like a box of socks. Remember, I'm open to any and every constructive opinion…good, bad, or indifferent!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own _The_ _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Come and take me  
Love you, save me  
Like nobody else  
Now I can be myself with you

I can let my hair down  
I can say anything crazy…" (From "With You" by Jessica Simpson)

Pixie sat on the hot asphalt towards the edge of the roof of the "Heart O' the City" motel, peering over its crumbling edge. Part of her concentration was dedicated to the task at hand-- namely keeping her sunglasses covered eyes focused on a small phone booth several yards away --while the other part was concerned with trying to avoid Wheeler's gaze. Though they both wore sunglasses, the false sun of the Matrix stung their eyes since light as intense as the Matrix sun was not found anywhere in the Real World, Pixie could almost sense Wheeler's gaze on her. She felt his eyes on her back almost as keenly as she did the hot asphalt through her thin pants.

The young woman heard Wheeler approaching, his boots crunching along the hot asphalt roof, though she pretended not to hear him. He sat down next to her shifting his weight in a vain effort to get comfortable. Wheeler seemed to turn his attention towards the spot Pixie was focused on but, like her, his mind was split. He wanted to do his job but he was also enjoying the fact he was with Pixie.

Since leaving the foul smelling alleyway, the former pitcher couldn't help but keep sneaking glances at Pixie. This was their first time working together in the Matrix and he couldn't help but be curious about her. Wheeler wanted to see if the Pixie sitting on the roof with him was anything like the one he knew from the Real World.

"You know what, Pix?" Wheeler stated, turning all his attention to the young woman crouched next to him on the hot rooftop.

"What's up Wheeler?" Pixie countered, fidgeting ever so slightly as she realized that Wheeler had turned all of his attention to her and not to the target they were supposed to be watching.

After spending a good part of her time in the Matrix in hospitals, Pixie really didn't enjoy being staring at. It just made her very uncomfortable most of the time, almost as if it was a constant invasion of her personal space. She knew Wheeler meant no offense by it but, still, she couldn't help her fidgeting. Pixie only hoped he understood that she was trying her best and not just being mean to him.

She was almost sure, in a strange way that he understood. He seemed to know more about her than she did about herself some days. Besides, Pixie was starting to learn that Wheeler had become part of her "safe" zone.

Though her captain speculated on what was causing her feeling as if she was jumping out of her skin, Pixie understood what was going on with her. She knew that, thanks to what had happened to her, she'd started having panic attacks. Wheeler, for whatever reason since panic attacks were entirely illogical events, was one of the few people she didn't have panic attacks around. Not because she was actively suppressing them, since that was impossible, but because she felt safe around him. It was a strange sensation to say the least, given that Pixie thought of them as just better than best friends…unless that was how that type of relationship worked. Like so many things recently, Pixie wasn't sure.

"Maybe it's because I'm not use to seeing you like this, Pix," he Wheeler started, his voice embarrassed sounding. "But I kind of like your Zion look better."

Pixie pulled her glasses low, peering at Wheeler from over the top of her round lenses. It was something she use to use on Hawk-- Jack then --when they were both in the Matrix. He said that she did that when she wanted to ask him something but didn't want to outright say that. She'd just peer at him over the top of the thick, coke bottle lenses she wore in the Matrix.

In truth, Wheeler's response had caught Pixie off guard. She hadn't expected him to say what he had about what she was, currently, wearing since, more often than not, Pixie found herself the subject of leering and cat calls in her "spandex ninja" outfit whenever she was alone in the Matrix. She hadn't mastered the whole being intimidating thing, like the others on her ship, and, as a result of that small fact, she found that she wasn't immune to the "normal" actions of people in the Matrix.

People saw a young woman dressed in overly tight-- in her opinion anyway. --clothes and felt the need to express their opinions. Pixie had tried to ward them off by affecting a tough air but her attempts hadn't worked. She still hadn't figured out just how to stop the leering and the cat calls.

Though she knew Wheeler lived by his own code of honor, so to speak, she figured he'd act like the others in the Matrix. Even Hawk had a few…complimentary…things to say when he first saw her in her Matrix blacks. It was just odd to her, how he reacted but not odd in a bad way. Just odd in an odd way.

Wheeler, for his part, felt the back of his neck and his ears flush when he mentally replayed his own comment. What he didn't want to do was insult Pixie. That was, actually, the last thing he wanted to do. There were still days, fewer recently since they were together more often than usual, that Wheeler had a hard time thinking of Pixie as a Pod Born. There was just something about her that made him forget that she came from the Matrix, just like him.

Seeing her actually in the Matrix, though, was a forcible reminder of that very fact. She was really just like him in that respect. They'd both come from very different worlds but they were both from the Matrix. They both did the same sort of job when off their ships and in the virtual world around them.

"That is to say," he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "You look good really…nice…dressed like that but I kind of know that's not how you really are. You're not all severe and tough, even though you're dressed the part."

"What am I then?" Pixie asked curiously, wondering if she should be angry with Wheeler or not.

In his head, Wheeler knew exactly how to answer that question. Finding the words to say what he was thinking out loud, however, was proving to be difficult. The more he thought about it, the more he found the words wouldn't come.

To him, Pixie was the ultimate study in contrasts. Pixie didn't trust easily-- He'd watched her lose all trust in him and their shared friends after Hawk's first betrayal back during their Academy days. --but, once she did, she was extremely loyal to her friends. She was cool and calm when she was faced with situations that required logic but nervous and jittery when approached when dealing with matters of the heart. When it was necessary, she was serious but could be silly about things too. Though she'd deny it, Pixie had a very strong "girly" side hidden under all of that logic and Matrix training she had.

Whatever she actually was, Wheeler knew that she had handed her heart to him and he had vowed to take the best care of it possible. He'd seen it break after the whole mess with Hawk and was watching it rebuild after what had happened to her on her ship. Wheeler had already decided that he didn't want to crush her like that. He'd protect her like he always did….he just had to work out the details on how.

"You're just not like this. Maybe it's because I've only seen you in the Real World, dressed in your sweaters and pants," he Wheeler offered with a lame sort of shrug. "I guess I just can't wrap my mind around the fact you're a gun-toting, black wearing, resistance fighter. I'm use to seeing you the other way."

Out of nowhere causing Pixie to nearly jump out of her own skin, Wheeler started to laugh. The young woman gave the former pitcher a curious glance, cocking her head to one side and wondering what Wheeler was laughing at. She hadn't said anything so he couldn't have been laughing that.

Unless, of course, he thought what she was wearing was amusing. What he said, though, made her think otherwise.

"What's so funny?" she, finally, asked, sounding baffled.

"I just realized that you and I are sitting here talking to one another but we're not even really doing this. I'm jacked into the Matrix through the _Shatterpoint_ and jacked in on the _Nebuchadnezzar_ but we're still sitting here talking just like we would if we were in Zion sitting next to each other and watching Aisling crack jokes on Adoh while Ngaio just shakes her head at them," he stated.

Thinking about it for a moment, smiling slightly at the mention of her their three friends from Zion, Pixie decided that Wheeler was right. It was a very strange concept. It had never really occurred to her before because she was use to going in with only the people from the _Nebuchadnezzar._ That situation didn't seem that strange since they were all lying side-by-side on the craft. Pixie guessed that she'd rationalized it that their being in close vicinity to one another made being together in the Matrix alright,

This situation was stranger since she and Wheeler were, truly, separated by not only distance but by the metal hulls of their respective ships. They weren't close enough to talk to each other face to face-- without a computer screen between them --let along sit next to each other on an overly hot roof with the sun beating down on their necks.

If anything, Pixie this was more a meeting of minds in the most literal sense of the word. Their physical bodies were on their respective ships while their minds met and talked in the Matrix. The more the young woman tried to wrap her head around that almost logical sounding fact, the more illogical it seemed. The more illogical it seemed, the more Pixie wanted to laugh.

"That's a good point. I mean, I can hold your hand here." Pixie laughed, taking Wheeler's hand in both her own and giving it a tight squeeze. "But I'm not really doing that. Your hand is resting on an arm rest on a beat up chair on your ship and mine is doing the same on my ship. It's really…strange…when you sit down and think about it."

She gave Wheeler a sheepish smile and released her hold on his hand. She hadn't meant to hold it as she finished out her thought. It had just sort of happened that way.

The pair returned to their silent guard, both of them now peering over the ledge of the roof. Pixie could barely make out the figure that was Neo in the bustling crowd. At least she though the figure her shaded eyes were following was Neo. From her distance, she couldn't be entirely sure.

"Unless you have a sniper rifle hiding in that jacket of yours, how are we going to help up here?" Wheeler broached, breaking the silence between the pair and asking what Pixie thought was a very valid question.

"No sniper rifle here," Pixie commented, patting her few pockets. "I've never used one anyway. Even with the whole 'suspending reality' thing we practice, I can't carry one and the recoil always manages to knock me backwards."

Pixie shucked her jacket off, laying the leather item on the ground next to her. In the heat, she was glad to actually be rid of her jacket, despite the fact she knew that she had to wear it while in the Matrix. If she didn't, trouble with the law-- the police in the Matrix at best and the Agents at worst --could ensue.

Her shoulder holsters, an ever present but not liked part of her normal Matrix gear, were plainly visible without the jacket she wore to cover them. The twin handguns she used-- light because of her weight and wrist strength --rested against her sides, tucked in shoulder holsters. They were supposed to be her go-to weapons since her…other…weapons rested against her ankles. Getting to them was a bit harder than simply reaching into her jacket and pulling out one or both of her handguns.

"What are those?" Wheeler asked, looking more than a little surprised.

Since finding Pixie's ship and having her around almost constantly, Wheeler had learned volumes about his friend. Seeing her in the Matrix, learning what she carried to protect herself in the false reality, were just the latest bits of information he was learning about her.

He was surprised by everything he'd learned since Wheeler had thought he knew Pixie fairly well. Apparently, there was still a lot he still had to learn about her.

Pixie pulled one of the handguns out and handed it Wheeler handle first. She checked the safety, making sure it was still on. She rarely ever took them off because Pixie was, truthfully, afraid she was going to hurt herself. That and she, still, didn't like carrying them with her.

"My defenses that I hate using," Pixie said with a shake of her head. "I prefer to either outpace the person or to use my other defenses. These are my last resorts, much to Hawk's amusement."

"What other defenses? Martial arts?" Wheeler asked, handing the weapon back to Pixie.

Pixie replaced the weapon, pulling her jacked back on and zipping it up halfway. She hadn't wanted to put the jacket back on but she wasn't sure when she was going to be able to leave the roof. If she had leave at a moment's notice, she wanted to be prepared. Pixie shook her head. Kung Fu, along with all the other martial arts skills she had acquired during her training, were tools she'd never hesitate to use to keep herself alive but she had other tools.

Shifting how she was sitting so she could stick her legs out in front of her, Pixie pulled up the legs of her pants. Other than the tops of her boots and dark stockings, Pixie didn't have to look down to know what was strapped to her ankles. Left side was a small tranquilizer gun; right was a taser. The taser was a recent addition, something Tank had programmed for her the last time she had gone in.

She choked back an ill feeling as she thought of the person who should have been watching her and her crew instead of Morpheus. Tank was still flitting into and out of consciousness, unable to operate effectively. She knew his infection wasn't getting worse but it wasn't getting better either. He was still hanging onto that fine line between getting better and getting worse. A tip in that delicate balance could change things drastically. Pixie wanted to remain optimistic but she knew the odds. Septic shock wasn't easy to get over; the organ damage was severe. There was still a chance for his wounds to be fatal, which made Pixie sad. She didn't like the idea of losing someone else.

Tank had been a good Operator and a very observant person. He'd known about her abhorrence for killing and how it confused her when she was asked to do so since it went against her medical oaths. He had helped her search through the available downloads for weapons to find ones she could use without killing. The taser had come as her early birthday gift, according to Tank.

"Tranquilizer gun and taser," Pixie explained, pointing to each in turn. "I know it's one of those unavoidable constant things but I really don't like killing so we found ways to avoid it."

She tugged the legs of her pants down, fussing with the clingy spandex in order to get it back in place, and added, with a sheepish smile, "I know it's not exactly good for what we do but I just don't like killing. Hawk use to make fun of me all the time for trying to avoid that."

Wheeler gave Pixie a small, comforting smile. He'd been one of the few people who had spoken with her after she had killed her first person. They'd spoken to each other behind the backs of both their captains-- speaking on a ship-to-ship link --and he had done his best to make her feel better, to make her see that she was more important to people in the Real World than the person she had killed was in the Matrix.

She had said that he had helped her, had made her feel better about she'd done. It still hurt to think about but what Wheeler had said had made things a bit better. Wheeler, for his part, just hoped she was being honest with him.

"Hawk's an idiot. I think, what you're doing is awesome," Wheeler said, giving one of Pixie's pale hands a squeeze. "Barriss-- You know, the medic from the _Shatterpoint_--hardly ever goes in because she's afraid of killing someone and breaking that oath all of you take. At least, you go in and try to avoid doing it. Aisling would be proud of you since we all know she's a medic that would like to go into the Matrix."

Her face a startling shade of red, Pixie turned away from Wheeler and pointed out, in a no nonsense tone, "I think we should probably get back to work. I don't know about you but I don't want to be accused of slacking off. Not for something this important."

Pixie knew the plan, had heard bits of what Neo was going to say. It was she figured, their way of telling the machines that things were about to change. They'd found their champion-- Whether everyone believed in him was a different story. Pixie still wasn't sure, herself, but found that she was being convinced of the fact Neo was…something special…to say the least. If he was "the One," she wasn't sure about that yet. That she was still working on. --and they were willing to take the war to the next level. Whatever that level was.

The young woman was also well aware of the fact that simply being allowed to watch from this vantage point was an honor for her. She was watching a new future for not just the free people living in the Real World-- and for people like her friends Aisling and Adoh who were born in Zion but still lived in fear of the machines above them. --but for those still trapped in the Matrix. Both she and Wheeler knew that Neo was in the booth announcing that he could feel the machines and state their intentions to the machine world.

"Do you think he did it yet?" Wheeler asked, squinting at the same spot Pixie's brandy brown eyes were trained on.

"I haven't the foggiest," Pixie replied with a shrug. "I guess we'll get the call when they want us back. They can't leave us here all day."

The two sat quietly for a handful of moments, both lost in their own thoughts. Both knew there was a future to consider. Not just for the two of them but for the rest of the Real World. This was something new for everyone, machine and human alike.

"What do you think is going to happen next?" Wheeler asked, speaking to Pixie and trying to figure out just what was in her head. "Something bad or good?"

Pixie turned to Wheeler, giggling and pointing out, "I'm not the Oracle or anything so I can't say."

Watching Neo blast past--a look of shock on her face when she realized that he was flying --she added, "I think it's going to be quite the ride though."

"One I'm willing to take with you, Pix," Wheeler pointed out, when he finally found his voice. "If you'll let me, of course."

Confused, wondering what Wheeler was actually trying to tell her, Pixie said, "I wouldn't want to take this ride without my better than best friend next to me."

Wheeler laughed and threw an arm around Pixie's shoulders, surprised when she didn't move away or shrug it off. That was a good enough answer for him. They'd both promised not to push things too hard and he wasn't. They'd take their time, even if other things around them were now going to move quickly. That was what Pixie wanted and Wheeler was more than happy to give her that.


	34. Graduation Friends Forever

AN: Hiya everyone! Alright…there's a definite possibility that there's one more chapter after this one. I apologize for this chapter taking so long, by the way, but I got stuck in a strange…situation…to say the least. See, the Girl Scout troop I volunteer for had two leaders up and quit on us several weeks ago. One leader left my mother-- the troop's coordinator --a voice mail message stating she couldn't take the kids anymore and she was quitting. This was after her not coming for about five weeks. The other leader came over to my mother during a meeting and said she was quitting. This wouldn't have been such a big deal if not for the fact they both quit, leaving both their respective troops without acts for our talent show and a list of patches for the kids to get at our end of the year ceremony. I, along with two assistant leaders (neither mine, come to think of it. I don't have an assistant.), had to get dances together and try to figure out what patches to give these kids. Somewhere along the lines, I also had dress rehearsal for my dance studio and managed to see _Bleach: Memories of Nobody_, which was quite good, by the way. Anywho, sorry about this chapter being kind of on the delayed side. To everyone who's still reading this mess of a story, I thank you. I appreciate you taking time out of your day to read my little misadventure. To anyone who's left a review or put my story on alert, you rock like a box of socks!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own _The_ _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"Will we think about tomorrow like we think about now?  
Can we survive it out there?  
Can we make it somehow?  
I guess I thought that this would never end  
And suddenly it's like we're women and men  
Will the past be a shadow that will follow us 'round?  
Will these memories fade when I leave this town  
I keep, I keep thinking that it's not goodbye  
Keep on thinking it's a time to fly…" (From "Graduation Friends Forever by Vitamin C)

Pixie knew she had to go back to Zion, eventually. Part of her, actually, wanted to go back to the city she called home. There something safe about Zion, something about is thick walls that made her feel more secure than the flimsy hull of the ship she called home did. Then again, the young woman knew that sense of safety in Zion-- as opposed to her feeling unsafe on the _Nebuchadnezzar_ --might have just come from the panic disorder she'd developed thanks to Hawk and Cypher and everything they'd done.

As a medic-- which was thought enough to give Pixie panic attacks at her worst --she knew that panic disorders made people irrational. The fears that went along with the attacks, the fears that were sometime so irrational and unreasonable that they forced people never to leave their homes, could do strange things to people. Pixie was trying her best to ignore the fears but sometimes the skin crawling sensation was too much for her to deal with. That was when she wanted her "safe" person around.

There was just one…small…problem with that.

Her "safe" person-- the one person in the whole of the Real World that she felt could protect her from the irrational things that were driving her panic attacks --was on the _Shatterpoint_. Logically speaking, Pixie knew that Trinity, and Morpheus were alright. They weren't going to look down on her for developing panic attacks. As a matter of fact, she figured they'd be downright understanding about it. After all, Morpheus and Trinity had worked for the Resistance for quite some time, if the rumors she'd heard were to be believed. They'd probably seen people develop panic disorders or worse during their time.

Still, with everything surrounding Neo, she didn't want to bother them. Trinity was basking in what Chian called "newfound love" and Morpheus was in awe of Neo's abilities. If what the Oracle had told Trinity was to be believed, Neo was the real deal. He was the man who was going to end the war against the machines. Pixie didn't want to bother them with her silly little, irrational fears.

She wouldn't have bothered Wheeler, her "safe" person, with them either but, for some reason, he'd picked up on them. Pixie had thought she was doing a good job hiding her panic attacks from everyone-- including and especially Wheeler --but he'd still figured out that something wasn't quite right with her. How he figured it out was beyond her understanding and, in a way, it didn't really matter. Most of Pixie was glad to have someone around to chase her fears away, even if those fears were just in her mind.

The young medic knew that "tough love," that treating the person having panic attacks with a firm hand and almost forcing them to realize that they were acting irrationally, was the acceptable treatment for the disorder. People who had panic attacks were not supposed to be babied, that's what one of her instructors at the Academy had said during one of her medical training courses. They were supposed to, basically, be told to "get over it" and to "stop dwelling on the attacks."

Pixie was sure that Barriss had warned Wheeler about that. She figured that the _Shatterpoint_'s medic had told her better than best friend about that part of her "treatment" since the two of them were together more often than not.

Oddly enough, when she was at her worst, when she was most afraid of the world around her, Wheeler wasn't there telling her to "get over it." He never seemed to hold to the whole idea of tough love, even if that was, logically speaking, how she was supposed to be treated. According to accepted medical theories in Zion-- theories that had survived from the days when the Machines were not in control of the surface --tough love was the way to go. Anything other than that was, according to theory, feeding into the illogical nature of panic disorders.

Wheeler had bucked those theories, went against the grain so to speak. Instead of being cold and rude when Pixie was at her worst, he sat with her, and talked her through the attack. He didn't treat her as if she was crazy or anything like that and for that Pixie was grateful. He sat next to her, sometimes with his arms around her and sometimes not and just spoke to her and listened when she had something to say.

His voice, with just the hint of a drawl to it, acted as her focus, giving Pixie something to think about instead of the thoughts racing through her head. She was almost embarrassed to admit how many times Wheeler had talked her through a panic attack.

Always, Pixie recalled with a ghost of a smile on her face, he promised to protect her from whatever was scaring her. Whatever irrational things were flying through her mind, whatever she was afraid of at that moment in time, he'd make sure they didn't get her. It wasn't coddling, Pixie knew. It was just how Wheeler was. He'd always promised to protect her-- and had a fair few times during their Academy days --and he was just reminding her of that fact.

With her "safe" person so very far away, on a totally different ship, Pixie couldn't help but be nervous. She almost hated the fact that she relied on Wheeler so much. The young woman didn't hate Wheeler-- she knew that was almost physically impossible for her to do considering the fact they were such good friends --but she hated the fact she was imposing on him. At least she thought she was, despite the fact Wheeler assured her that she wasn't. He was more than glad to be her "safe" person until she felt less afraid. Then he'd just go back to protecting her as he'd always done and they could go back to working on the finer points of being better than best friends.

Pixie's back was still sore and bruised but she was getting use to it. Even she knew it could be months before the bruises on her back faded into nothingness. Her back was just going to be sore until then. Said soreness was forgotten as she fiddled with her sleeves-- something she'd taken to doing as an almost futile way of releasing her nervous energy --and watched as the _Nebuchadnezzar_ dock in Zion.

The whole ride into Zion had been one huge test of her nerves. She remained in her cabin, gathering what few belongings she'd been able to salvage, for part of the ride until the silence in the room became too much for her to deal with. Silence often left Pixie thinking and she'd only recently learned that thinking was now a dangerous activity for her. She'd wandered into the cockpit, huddling in the doorway as the _Nebuchadnezzar_ swayed in a very unnatural and uncomfortable manner. Being around the others, around Morpheus, Trinity, and Neo still felt uncomfortable-- Pixie felt they, like Wheeler, could see when an attack was coming on --but it was better than the silence of her own room.

They'd looked at her when she slipped in, as silently as she could manage, but didn't say anything to her. Not out of anger or anything of that sort. Morpheus was too busy making sure the _Nebuchadnezzar_ stayed on its proper course as it hung, suspended on thick tow cables between the _Logos_ and the _Shatterpoint_. Pixie was, actually, surprised the much smaller _Logos_ was able to tow the much larger _Nebuchadnezzar _but the smaller ship was doing an admirable job….even if the swaying was starting to make her feel almost sea sick.

While Morpheus drove, so to speak, Neo gawked out the cockpit's window while Trinity explained to him what they, might, face when they reached Zion. Seeing the two of them together, just standing next to each other and talking, made something in Pixie miss Wheeler.

She knew she'd see him soon enough, though. With the crowd that Morpheus was suspecting to gather upon their arrival home, Wheeler knew Pixie was going to need him there with her. Pixie had disliked large crowds before and they both assumed that fear was only going to be magnified now. He promised to meet her underneath the _Nebuchadnezzar _and get her away from the crowds as soon as possible. He said they'd go find Rain or their friends. After all, Wheeler joked, they needed to begin extending her list of "safe" people.

On that fact, Pixie agreed and she knew just where to start.

The small giggle that escaped from her-- even before the incidents with Hawk and Cypher, Pixie rarely giggled like a giddy school girl. --causing Neo and Trinity to turn their attention towards the young woman. Trinity, who'd known Pixie even before her freeing, had watched Pixie slip back into her shell. Only Wheeler, it seemed was able to make her smile or laugh anymore. Her laughing now was entirely unexpected.

"What's so funny, Pix?" Trinity asked, using the informal version of her name.

What had started out as Wheeler's nickname for her had rapidly turned into a second version of her name. Nearly everyone had taken to calling her just "Pix" except for Morpheus. He always called her "Pixie" and managed to make her name sound extremely formal and important.

"I remember that look," Pixie answered, blushing but gesturing in Neo's general direction. "I think I looked like that when I first saw Zion too."

In a smaller voice, as her hands found themselves behind her back to fiddle with the hem of her sweater-- another, older, way to release nervous energy. --Pixie added, "Hawk said I looked like a fish out of water. If fishes were bald and had big ears."

"He was gawking too," Trinity pointed out, a frown on her face at the mention of Hawk's name. "And he was just as bald as you were."

Turning to Neo, Trinity added, "Everyone gawks when they first see Zion. It's a natural reaction to the city."

"And if you think this is impressive," Pixie cut in. "Wait until you see the rest of the city. It's…awesome!"

A faint smile crossed her face as she remembered her first time seeing the whole of Zion. She'd still been getting use to her improved eye sight-- having had grown use to wearing glasses all the time in the Matrix --and being able to see all of Zion with her new and improved eye sight had impressed her greatly. To Pixie, it was still one of the most amazing things she'd ever had the opportunity to see.

Her momentary enthusiasm cooled as the swaying ship came to a halt in one of the docking bays. Suddenly, Pixie began to get that skin crawling sensation that always seemed to precede a panic attack. She, all of a sudden, did not want to leave the ship. One look out the cockpit's wide windows had turned her into a chicken.

As predicted, there stood a crowd of people, all watching the _Nebuchadnezzar_ dock. How all these people heard about Neo, about what he'd done in the Matrix was beyond Pixie. She'd thought they'd all kept the story under pretty tight wraps. Maybe someone in Zion Control had slipped up and let word get out into the rest of the population. Pixie wasn't entirely sure and she found that she couldn't think anyway. She was too busy trying not to stare at the waiting crowd.

"Are you coming, Pixie?" Morpheus asked, breaking Pixie out of her reverie.

"Sorry, sir," she mumbled, her face turning a bright shade of crimson. "I'm coming."

Stealing one last glance out the cockpit window, the skin crawling sensation getting just a bit stronger, Pixie jogged after her captain and what was left of the crew. She knew that the crowd wasn't what was causing the skin crawling sensation. No, it was just the idea of being in the crowd that was making her panic. There were just too many people out there for her to be comfortable with. Another part of the disorder she'd seemed to develop and something else she knew she'd have to work to get over.

With her small bag slung over her shoulders-- she'd split the straps she could carry it like a backpack instead of over one shoulder --Pixie slipped down the ramp. She felt stiff and uncomfortable, almost as if she truly needed to split her skin like an insect molting its outer coat, facing all the people. Some were military, some council, and most were just civilians who believed the end of the war was near since Neo had come.

Quietly and quickly, Pixie removed herself from the ramp and slipped underneath the ship. It was cooler, darker, and almost felt safer. The press of the crowd seemed a far off memory under the belly of the _Nebuchadnezzar_.

"You feeling alright, Pix?" Wheeler asked, as he wandered over with his bag on the floor near his feet. "Something got you spooked?"

"Nothing…nothing," she answered, far too quickly and automatically. "I'm alright. Nothing has me scared."

Wheeler gave Pixie a sidelong glance, making her blush. She'd always been a lousy liar and Wheeler knew it. Try as she might, she was never going to get anything past him.

"How bad this time, Pix?" Wheeler wanted to know, walking over to where Pixie stood and gauging whether or not he should put his arm around her shoulders.

The former pitcher knew that Pixie hadn't always been fond of being touched, even in a friendly way. He remembered back in their Academy days, Pixie use to flinch whenever someone did so much as tap her on the shoulder.She'd admitted to him once that she was still getting use to him holding her hands or putting his arms around her shoulders. It seemed at odds with the fact they'd cuddle when they shared a bed together but that was just how Pixie was. She was a combination of many things, and some of those things were contradictory.

"Skin crawling bad," Pixie, ashamed of her own fears, admitted. "I feel like I have to jump out of my skin."

"It's alright," Wheeler assured the young woman, pulling her into a hug and feeling the tension she was holding in her body. "It's alright. I promised I'd protect you, remember? Besides, this is Zion. There's nothing to be afraid of her, alright?"

Pixie almost nodded her head when another voice forced her out of Wheeler's arms and onto her rear end. The pair had no love for overt public displays of affection.

"You're not supposed to be coddling her like that," Depa, the first mate of the _Shatterpoint_, blurted, nearly shouting. "Barriss told you that! If she's having panic attacks you're supposed to be firm with her. If you coddle her, she's never going to get better."

"What are you doing here?" Wheeler asked, feeling Pixie nearly radiating tension and fear as she slipped behind him.

He grabbed her hands in one of his own, knowing that this new twist wasn't going to help Pixie any. She pulled away but Wheeler held fast. Slowly, almost carefully, Wheeler felt Pixie start fiddling with his fingers as if they were her own. The former pitcher fought the smile that threatened to cross his face. He'd smile later, when he wasn't facing down his angry first mate.

"I figured you'd decide to meet up with this kid. She has to face down the Council for what happened between her and Hawk. You have no right to take her from this place," Depa pointed out.

Pixie paled behind Wheeler, grabbing his hand harder. True she knew she had to face the Council and recount, once again, what had happened between her and Hawk among other things. She just didn't want to have to do that now. Now, she just wanted to go with Wheeler; she just wanted to find Rain and her family in Zion.

"We weren't going anywhere," Wheeler blurted. "And I wasn't coddling her. She's been through a lot, Depa. I'm just trying to be a good friend."

"What you're doing is enabling her," Depa countered. "She's never going to get any better like this. Just you wait and see."

"You're not a medic. You don't know that," the former pitcher stated.

Turning to Pixie, he added, "Come on, Pix. Let's get out of here."

Mute-- she could feel her heart racing in her chest and the crawling in her skin got worse --Pixie was only able to nod her head and follow Wheeler out from under the ship. She held onto his hand, beginning to wonder if she was losing her mind. Rationally, she knew that wasn't true but, sometimes, in the grips of her worst attacks, she had to wonder. Then again, that feeling came part and parcel with having panic attacks so Pixie guessed she shouldn't be too worried.

Her mind was still the same as it had always been. She just need to…sort through some things…before everything was back to the way it was.

If…after everything that had happened…could go back to the way things were before.


	35. Keep Holding On

AN: I keep saying that the last chapter is coming and it is, sooner rather than later. See, thing is, I was going to start off the next part of this misadventure with this but that didn't make any sense to me! It was sort of like putting an ending at the beginning of something so that just didn't feel right. Besides, there's something more final about doing it this way, anyway. At least in my head but things tend not to make a lot of sense when they come out of my head. Not entirely sure why. Anyway, I apologize for promising an ending but not coming up with one…yet. I can assure you that there is an ending to all of this in here somewhere and that it is, indeed, coming up soon. There's just one more detour that had to be made before we got there in a way. To anyone who's out there still reading this mess, thank you for putting up with me and my late updates and strange twists in the story. I'm surprised anyone takes time out of their days to read this stuff. To anyone who's left a review or put this story on alert, you rock like a box of socks. Remember, I'm open to any opinions…good, bad, or indifferent! Just let me know what you're thinking!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own _The_ _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"You're not alone  
Together we stand  
I'll be by your side, you know I'll take your hand  
When it gets cold  
And it feels like the end  
There's no place to go  
You know I won't give in  
No I won't give in

Keep holding on  
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through  
Just stay strong  
'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you  
There's nothing you could say  
Nothing you could do  
There's no other way when it comes to the truth  
So keep holding on  
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through…" (From "Keep Moving On" by Avril Lavigne)

Trinity had watched Pixie disappear underneath the ship, a move the older female didn't understand. Pixie knew she'd eventually have to explain her role in what transpired to the Council. Disappearing underneath the ship-- in an effort to wait out the crowd, Trinity supposed --wasn't going to stop that from happening. If anything, Trinity assumed Pixie would be glad to have her chance to send Hawk to the stockade-- Zion's prison for those who committed crimes and worked in the fleet --for what he did to her. She'd seen the bruises Pixie was still sporting and knew, like Pixie, that the damage Hawk did could be permanent. She might not ever be herself, be the Pixie everyone knew, again.

Once Pixie meandered out from underneath the craft, Trinity understood why she'd slipped under there in the first place. During their time trying to repair the _Nebuchadnezzar_, it had become very clear that Pixie and Wheeler, a young man from the _Shatterpoint_, were very good friends. The young man-- a former pitcher from a small town in Texas --had, basically, made it his job to watch out for Pixie as she worked. The only time the pair wasn't together was when he was on guard duty and Pixie was asleep.

It made a strange sort of sense to Trinity that Pixie would meet up with Wheeler. They'd been friends before their respective freeings from the Matrix and were "better than best friends," Pixie's words, now. They were probably meeting up in order to do whatever it was two nineteen year olds did in order to keep busy. Pixie would, no doubt, show up for her date with the Council-- for Hawk's trial --with Wheeler in tow.

"Where's Pixie going?" Neo asked, watching as Wheeler led Pixie away from the crowd now starting to get dangerously close to the _Nebuchadnezzar_.

"Where are we going?" Pixie asked, speaking in a whisper to Wheeler.

With her hand still firmly held in his, Wheeler had managed to get the two of them as far away from the crowd as humanly possible. They were walking along its margins, in the crowd but not really a part of it, heading for one of the smaller, more secluded tunnels out of the Docks. One that wouldn't be as crowded so he could get her back to her home or Rain's or wherever it was Pixie wanted to go.

Everyone, it seemed, was aiming to get a good view of the One so two small individuals-- Neither Pixie nor Wheeler were all that big to begin with. --moving along its margins wasn't really noticed.

All the better, Wheeler figured, since the incident with Depa really seemed to shake Pixie. Walking with her through the huge crowd was probably not the best ideas. If anything, it might freak her out further. The last thing he wanted, for both her sake and his, was for Pixie to have a full blown panic attack. That wouldn't have been good for either of them. For Pixie because the attacks took a physical toll on her every time she had one. For him, because he hated seeing Pixie like that. Like the world was closing in on her and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

That was why he'd taken to becoming her "safe" person so easily. He'd always protected Pixie from things and these attacks were no different. She might not have always been able to tell him what she was afraid of but Wheeler was still determined to protect her from whatever was scaring her, nameless or not. That was his job, after all, as her better than best friend. At least, that's what Wheeler figured. They were still trying to figure out everything that went along with their change in title.

Wheeler shrugged and answered, "Away from this crowd for starters. I figure that it'll be better for you if we're not around this mess."

"But I have to go talk about what Hawk did," Pixie started.

"I think that's going to wait. I heard Mace talking to Niobe about it. The whole thing with Neo kind of trumps what happened on your ship. Not to discount it or anything like that, of course," Wheeler cut in.

As strange as it sounded, that made sense to Pixie. Neo had destroyed an Agent, something that was only dreamed of by anyone who'd ever come up against an Agent and managed to live. The Council was going to want to know everything about how Neo did what he'd done. Every detail, even the smallest most insignificant of things, was probably going to wind up recorded and studied.

The other events-- the ones that involved Cypher and Hawk and the havoc those two had managed to wreak --would be brought up later, only after Neo and his powers were thoroughly examined. Pixie did feel sorry for Neo but there was a small part of her that was glad for the reprieve. Though she knew she had to, she really didn't want to have to retell the story of what Hawk had done to her and had told her. Pixie didn't quite feel up to that task…not yet, anyway.

Her reverie was broken when she felt Wheeler let go of her hand. Before she could process why-- perhaps they'd gotten sucked into the crowd and separated or something like that --Pixie found all the air in her lungs being crushed out of her. It took the young woman a moment to realize that she wasn't being crushed in the actual sense of the word. It was more like someone was hugging her and hugging her quite hard.

"Aisling?" she asked. "Aisling? What's wrong?"

Aisling, her honey colored hair shorter than Pixie remembered it being, faced Pixie with what Pixie assumed were tears in her dark blue eyes. That caught Pixie off guard more than the unexpected hug nor the appearance of her closest friends, Aisling, Adoh, and Ngaio. Aisling had always been the toughest of the lot of them. She'd been the one who wanted to work for the Resistance in order to get what revenge she could for the death of her father before she was born. She'd never exactly been the touchy-feely one. That had always been, sort of, Ngaio's area. Aisling, in Pixie's mind, had been the sarcastic, thick skinned one. Nothing made her cry but she was crying now.

"You stupid little Pod Born idiot," Aisling snapped, though she was crying. "When we heard what happened to the _Nebuchadnezzar_ we were all worried about you. The one person who thinks were going all survive this mess is the first one to get killed. Don't ever do that again to us, Pix! You got me?"

"I understand Aisling," Pixie answered as Adoh, and then Ngaio gave her much friendlier hugs. "I'm sorry I made you guys worry. I'll try not to do it again."

Aisling's hug had caught her off guard; her body didn't have time to react as it normally would. Adoh and Ngaio's hugs, however, had her flinching a bit and not just because they felt the need to touch her bruised back. She was still working on the whole being hugged thing. Other than Wheeler, people hugging her made her flinch a little.

"When we all heard, Pix," Adoh added, sounding uncharacteristically serious. "We all expected the worst. I mean, your ship was attacked and, from what we all heard, completely destroyed."

"It was only partially destroyed. They got through the hull and into the Core before we could hit the EMP," Pixie corrected, repressing a physically shudder.

She was still having nightmares about that part of the whole event, among other things of course. The nightmares were partially the cause of her panic attacks. She knew she had to "retrain" herself to remember that they were only dreams and, unlike the electric sleep that she'd had in the Matrix, these dreams couldn't harm her. They were just images in her mind, nothing more.

Still, they made her heart race as if she'd gone back in time-- impossible as far as she knew and, for that, Pixie was glad --back to the day those events had taken place. That was one of those good things she'd discovered about sharing a bed with Wheeler. She'd wake up in a panic and he'd talk her through the attack. Pixie knew he was working harder than she was, because of her injuries, and he needed the sleep but he still stayed up with her just to make sure she was alright.

"But still," Ngaio cut in. "That must have been terrible."

"Real tasteful, Ngaio," Aisling pointed out, still looking as if she wanted to cry but doing a better job now of covering it up. "Remind the poor girl of what happened to her."

"You know, she's going to ask you all about what happened later," Wheeler whispered, making Pixie blush.

Pixie nodded her head, ever so slightly, and whispered, "I know. They'll pounce later when we're not surrounded by so many people."

"No they won't," pointed out another voice, another individual that caught Pixie totally off guard. "Torrent told them everything they need to know. They're not going to bother asking you at all. If they do, they're going to have me to deal with."

Looking away from Wheeler and her friends, Pixie noticed a familiar face standing just on the edge of the small crowd her friends had formed. She looked more worried, more afraid than the rest of her friends. It was a new look on the woman's-- she was older than Pixie by a few years. More years than Chian was older than Pixie to be more specific. --and one that almost made Pixie, herself, start to cry.

Pixie hadn't meant to make her worry out of everyone. She knew she had enough to worry about with her husband in the fleet and being concerned that her son might not grow up having a father were anything to happen to her husband. Pixie and the older woman had always been good friends but she'd never thought that she'd worry about her that much. After all, Pixie was just one of the many kids she'd fostered in Zion. She was just another girl out of the many young men and women she'd taken into her home and raised until they could live on their own.

"Rain?" Pixie asked, her voice tentative. "What are you doing here?"

The young woman had figured that Rain, her foster mother, had taken in someone else and had, sort of forgotten about her. She did still talk to Rain when time and space permitted her but, still, Pixie figured that she'd been replaced. There was probably another young man or woman that needed Rain and that person had taken her place in Rain's life. Either that or she'd been busy with Torrent or Eli, Rain's son.

"Do you think I'd forget about my daughter?" Rain answered, stepping into the circle and throwing her arms around Pixie. "And before you say anything, Pix, I haven't forgotten or replaced you. I can't."

"Why not?" Pixie asked, half surprised to find herself hugging Rain back and even more surprised when she found herself on the verge of tears.

"Because a certain someone we all know is very attached to his 'big sister Pix' and always wants to know when she's coming to see him," Rain answered. "He tells everyone that his dad and his big sister are out fighting. Can't seem to convince that boy otherwise."

Pixie laughed and commented, "I'm sorry for making you worry too, Rain. I know you already have Torrent to worry about. I didn't mean to add to your worries."

"But Rain," Aisling cut in. "We know the official story. We don't know what really happened. I'm sure Pixie knows all the inside dirt about what happened on her ship. I mean, really, did Cypher try to sell you all out? What about Neo? Is he seriously the One?"

"How'd you managed to survive without more than a few scratches on you?" added Adoh. "I mean, we all heard that four people were killed but you still managed to live through it."

"Would you two, please, leave Pix alone," Wheeler snapped, catching everyone off guard. "She'd had it rough and I'm sure the Council isn't going to make it easier for her. She's got to stand at Hawk's trial because she's the only witness to what happened there."

"What happened with Hawk?" Ngaio asked the first to get over her shock at Wheeler's statement. "What did that moron do now?"

"You don't have to…" Wheeler started, before Pixie cut him off with a shake of her head.

"I want to. We all knew Hawk. We all were there the first time he turned on one of us," Pixie put in.

Turning her back to her friends and Rain, she lifted up the bottom of her sweatshirt and said, "He tried to cripple me with a metal tray. The bruises go from between my shoulders all the way down to my hips."

Pixie let her shirt fall back down around her hips, taking a step back so she was closer to Wheeler. Whether or not the step was a conscious thing, Pixie wasn't sure. She'd gotten use to having Wheeler behind her, keeping an eye on her so to speak, that she wasn't sure if her stepping back into him was intentional or not. That worried Pixie, ever so slightly, that she'd become that dependant on Wheeler. She didn't want to be a bother to him like that.

It was Aisling who reacted first, much to everyone's non-surprise. Her almost sad look was quickly replaced by a very angry one. Though it had been her twin brother who reacted when Hawk first broke away from their little group several years prior, it was Aisling who reacted now.

"There's nothing you can do, sis," Adoh said, trying to stop Aisling and having a very difficult time doing so. "He's probably already in the hands of security. Besides, you don't want to get yourself arrested and thrown off your ship, right?"

"You're going to get him thrown in the stockade, right Pix?" Aisling asked, stopping her struggle against her brother before she hurt her younger sibling.

"I'm going to try," Pixie answered. "I don't know when his trial is but I know I have to testify at it. They're going to want to hear the story…even if I don't want to tell it again."

"That bad, huh?" Ngaio stated, suddenly distracted by something else.

"Worse than that bad," Pixie corrected, shifting her weight from foot to foot and growing uncomfortable with the questions.

Watching her friends, she laughed-- a small, quiet sound --and added, "You guys can go gawk at Neo. I know at least two of you are big believers in the One."

Aisling and her twin laughed and, with Ngaio in tow, stepped into the crowd. Pixie remembered their mother, Una, as a big believer in the One. The young woman imagined her friends' mother was probably someplace in the crowd, waiting for Neo-- who was just standing there looking a bit like a deer in headlights --to do or say something to prove he was who'd they heard he was and not just some older, newly unplugged individual.

"Pixie," Rain broached, catching the young woman's attention by using her given name instead of the more informal version everyone she knew used for her. "Do you plan on staying alone while you're here? You're more than welcome to come stay with me, Eli, and Torrent if you don't want to stay alone."

Pixie had toyed with the idea of asking Rain if she could stay with her, at least for a little while. That idea, while it had its merits, was quickly discarded. Pixie didn't want to bother Rain like that. Besides, she figured she, eventually, had to learn to live on her own. She couldn't be afraid forever.

It wasn't that she was afraid of living or sleeping alone; she'd slept alone on the way back to Zion and, besides, Pixie knew sleeping had never been something she'd been good at. It was more like she was afraid of having an attack when she was home alone. Being scared and being by one's self was never a good combination. It was even worse when one was convinced that something bad was going to happen to them.

Still, Pixie knew she had to learn, or re-learn, to be on her own. She couldn't rely on Wheeler and Rain forever. Despite the fact her back wasn't in the best shape and could, possibly, be permanently damaged, she was determined to go back to her old job…if Morpheus would have her back, of course. She had to re-learn not to be afraid of being by herself in order for her to be able to do that.

Before Pixie could explain herself to Rain, Wheeler stated, "If it's alright with you, Rain, I was planning on staying with Pix. She and I became bunkmates while her ship was under repair and unusable."

Rain looked at Wheeler, slightly suspicious. She'd always liked Wheeler-- Rain knew she had no right to say anything to Pixie about such things since she wasn't the young woman's biological mother but, still, she was allowed to express her opinions, Rain figured. --better than Hawk. The former pitcher was just a nicer, more respectful sort of person. She knew the two of them, Pixie and Wheeler, would wind up as a couple but she hadn't exactly figured Wheeler for the type who took advantage of someone when they were hurt.

"I mean it literally, Rain," Wheeler added, his ears and the back of his neck turning a very bright red. "You can ask Pix. She needed a bed and I offered mine. I stayed with her because, well, I didn't want her to be alone."

"Pixie?" Rain stated, almost laughing as Pixie's entire fact turned a startling shade of crimson. "Maybe you want to explain this one?"

"It's like Wheeler said, I needed a bed because I couldn't go on watch and I needed someone to keep an eye on me-- Barriss was afraid I'd get compartment syndrome because of the bruises --and Wheeler let me use his room and watch me instead of the tunnel we were all in. He and I cuddled, that was all. I promise," Pixie answered, her face turning redder, if that was at all possible.

"The funny thing is I believe the two of you," Rain chuckled. "You want to stay with Pix, than you're more than welcome to but you're still welcome to come by and visit."

"I plan on it," Pixie admitted, with a smile.

"Not tonight she won't," Trinity stated, coming up behind Pixie and scaring the young woman half to death.

"I really don't want to, Trinity," Pixie blurted. "I don't think it's my place to go with you guys. I'm just new to the ship."

"You were with us for a year," Trinity said. "You have to be there. It's a tradition and you know that."

Pixie shifted uncomfortably, prompting Trinity to add, "Bring your friends. We're meeting at The Parting Glass in two hours."

The young girl nodded her head, knowing that she had no choice but to go. If she didn't, well, that wouldn't look good for her.

"You'll come, right?" she asked, turning to Wheeler.

"Sure…and I think Aisling and the others might want to come to. We went for that one for the Operator on Ngaio's ship, remember?" Wheeler answered.

With a very heavy heart, Pixie pointed out she remembered. It was time for one of the more…unhappy…traditions in the fleet. It was time to remember those who'd died in their own, non-at-the-Gardens way.


	36. Once in Every Lifetime

AN: Alright, this was supposed to be the last chapter. I had the whole thing planned out as the last chapter and everything but that didn't exactly happen, in case you can't tell. I apologize for that and for dragging this story along. I just have an idea how I want it to end (gleaned from an alternate version of _The Matrix Reloaded_ script a friend sent to me…very different from how the movie actually looks oddly enough) and I couldn't get that in here for some reason. I promise, though, that the ending is coming soon…well, soon enough anyway. The fact this chapter took so long is the fault of the New York Mets. See, they were playing poorly but started winning and kept winning. While they were winning, I was writing this and, my ultra superstitious little sister, insisted we all had to keep doing whatever it was we were doing because if we didn't the Mets would lose. They actually had a ten game win streak and took over first place in our division so I guess it was a good thing…maybe. Anywho, thanks for sticking with this mess of a story. I promise an ending's coming soon for this story. To everyone out there still reading this mess, thanks for taking the time out to read this story. I greatly appreciate it. To anyone who's left me a review or put me on alert, thanks! You guys rock like a box of socks. Remember, I'm open to constructive commentary, whether it be good, bad, or indifferent!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own _The_ _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"It's time to move out of the darkness  
Use what you feel inside  
Your faith alone will guide you  
Feel the turning tide

It's in your heart  
It's in your soul  
Don't be scared, keep believin'" (From "Once in Every Lifetime" by Jem)

Two hours seemed like an arbitrary span of time really. Two hours could seem as short as the blink of an eye or drag on forever. It just depended on what was waiting at the end of those two hours. If it was something good, Pixie figured, time would drag on. In her experience, that was how things worked. If something good was going to happen-- something she was waiting for, in the rare case she was actually anticipating something good happening. --time seemed to decide to work against her and move more slowly.

When it was something she wasn't looking forward to, well, then time moved along as quickly as humanly possible, despite the fact Pixie knew that wasn't possible. Time was one of those constants that always moved along at the same pace. It was just human perception that made it seem as if it moved faster or slower.

Case in point, Pixie wasn't really looking forward to meeting Trinity, Neo, and whoever else was going to come along at The Parting Glass. Sure, she was being "allowed" to bring her own friends, for reasons Pixie had yet to understand, but it still wasn't exactly a comfortable situation in her mind. These things were always so sad on the one hand and irreverent on the other.

Though she knew she'd be uncomfortable, the Pixie also knew she was almost obligated to attend. There'd be no slithering out of this one, no matter how much she really wanted to. Even faking panic attack symptoms, something she wouldn't do anyway just in case they brought on the real thing, wasn't going to get her out of meeting the others at The Parting Glass.

This meeting, this collection of members of the resistance was "their way" of honoring the memories of those fallen in the service. They'd meet in some haunt in Zion because that was how they were. Stripped of all their titles and freed from their positions on the ships they worked on, they were just normal citizen of Zion. Normal, everyday people who might frequent a place like The Parting Glass after work.

Pixie almost wanted to content herself with the fact this little get together was going to be much more informal than the other ceremony that awaited her. Part of her was a little curious to find out if she could bring Wheeler along to that event. Though she disliked the fact she relied on him so completely lately-- he was her "safe" person after all and that was important for her panic attacks --she knew she'd feel better if he was with her. He'd keep her safe if she had an attack. Wheeler was strangely good at talking her through her fears, even if those fears were just in her mind.

There'd be a proper ceremony in the Gardens once things settled down some. Pixie really wasn't eager to attend the memorials for those who'd been killed on her ship. Not because she wanted to be disrespectful or anything like that. It was more because the situation was still too fresh in her mind. She was still having nightmares about it. Going to the Gardens to say their final farewells, despite the fact it could bring her the closure she needed, was just too sad.

The Gardens and the ceremonies were for the families of the fallen and the "higher ups" on the Zion Council. Those who spoke hollow words about bravery and honor and "the cause" while adoptive parents, or blood parents whatever the case might be, and friends cried and offered condolences. Pixie especially didn't like that part. She remembered going with Ngaio when her Operator died-- freak accident, nothing related to the Matrix --and feeling very out of place when she walked over to the grieving family with her friends. It was almost as if she didn't know what to say that didn't sound clichéd and trite. Not even apologizing sounded like the right thing to do since she, technically, didn't do anything wrong.

Pixie wasn't sure how the tradition got started, she was relatively new to the fleet after all, but she knew of it. Every time someone on one of the ships died-- it didn't matter how they died, be it in the Matrix or some accident on the ship --the members of the crew, those who knew and worked with the person would meet at a place like The Parting Glass to honor their memory. Well, that and do other things but Pixie wasn't keen on thinking about them now.

At the moment, she was more interested in a warm shower and clean clothes. Those were the first two things she wanted to conquer before the whole going to The Parting Glass thing.

"You okay in there Pix?" Wheeler shouted, sitting on the edge of her bed. "Your back holding up alright?"

Much to Aisling's amusement, Wheeler had gone back to Pixie's home with her. No matter what Pixie, Wheeler, or Rain, though she hadn't been there for any of it, said, Aisling believed what she wanted to believe. She was convinced that Pixie and Wheeler were up to less than innocent things together. Since Aisling was, well, Aisling, there was no convincing her otherwise. She thought what she wanted and said what she wanted.

Wheeler, being the gentleman that he was, offered to leave and let Rain stay with her as she got ready to go to The Parting Glass. The others-- the twins, and Ngaio --were supposed to be meeting them there just before Trinity wanted everyone there. He'd asked Pixie if she preferred Rain to stay with her just in case. After all, Rain could help her things with he couldn't.

As the former pitcher sat perched on the edge of Pixie's bed-- staring at her pillows and motley looking teddy bear like thing that sat at the head of her bed --wondering what he could do if Pixie really did need his help. He'd try to help her, of course, but there wasn't a lot he could do for her. Not without breaking the promises he'd made himself when he and Pixie both decided to be better than best friends. They'd promised to take things as slowly as Pixie wanted and Wheeler was going keep that promise, especially now after everything that had happened to his poor Pixie.

"I'm alright," Pixie shouted in reply, over the warmish spray of the shower she was taking. "Just getting the soap out of my hair….again."

Though the circumstances of her return home weren't exactly the greatest, Pixie was glad for one thing. She was extremely pleased with the fact she could take a proper shower. One where the water was warm enough that it didn't hurt her back. The cold water on the ships froze her to the core and made her shiver and the shivering did little to help the bruises on her back. It just made them hurt more, no matter how much pain killers she was willing to take, which wasn't a lot actually.

She also hadn't the chance to give her hair a good scrubbing while on the _Shatterpoint_ or the _Logos_. Pixie had been warned by everyone she could think of and a few people who slipped her mind at the moment, that keeping her hair as long as she did wasn't the brightest idea. It was impractical for her to have long hair while working on a ship. It wouldn't be properly clean all the time-- since giving it thorough washing was impossible since water wasn't something to be wasted on a ship --and it would make access to the jack in the back of her head that much more difficult. Whoever was jacking her in would have to hunt through her mess of hair and that took time. Time they sometimes didn't have thanks to the Matrix.

Despite all the warnings, Pixie had decided to keep her hair long. It was just the way she saw herself. Despite being uncomfortable with everything about herself, her hair was the one thing she liked. It made her stand out, in a weird way, from everyone else. Not that she wanted to stand out or anything like that. Pixie was one of those people who preferred the background to the forefront any day. She just felt more normal with her hair long, no matter how hard it was to take care of on a ship.

To be able to get weeks worth of dirt, grease, grit, grim, and something Pixie suspected might have been blood, made the young woman smile under the shower spray. She scrubbed her hands through her hair once again, homemade shampoo getting just about everywhere-- Though she was neat everyplace else, Pixie was quite messy when she bathed. For some unknown reason, there was always water outside the small shower she had whenever she finished. --before ducking her head, ever so gently as not to upset her back any more than it was already bothering her, under the spray to get the soap out.

Finally feeling sufficiently clean, every single trace of dirt and grime, both of the physical and mental variety, washed away, Pixie carefully got herself dressed. A few items of clothing were ignored because they bothered her back-- besides, she was far more comfortable in a plain undershirt than anything she might wear --but she figured she'd done alright, for the most part.

Over said undershirt, which lacked holes and was the ones that fit her best out of the few she owned, Pixie had thrown on a loose fitting sage green sweatshirt. She knew Aisling was, probably, going to have a fit when she saw then shirt-- Aisling had been the one to choose what Pixie wore to her first Gathering --but Pixie was more interested in being comfortable at the moment. She'd pull out her "nice clothes," relative term, for Hawk's trial.

Black pants, the same kinds she wore on the ship, were on her legs and it was said pants that started Pixie laughing. Not just a small, quiet, chuckle but a full on giggle. The kind of laugh Pixie thought everything that had transpired had driven out of her.

It was the same giggle that brought Wheeler to the door of the tiny bathroom. He'd heard the water turn off but hadn't a clue as to why Pixie was laughing like she was. Well, Wheeler could think of a few reasons why but none of them really made sense.

Knocking on the door, the former pitcher shouted, "You dressed in there, Pix?"

Still giggling, Pixie answered, "I am but I'm alright. I just have a very small problem, that's all. Nothing I can't handle myself."

Looking at her legs, Pixie realized she had more than one small problem but she was taking baby steps, dealing with one issue at a time. She knew if she got too overwhelmed, there was always a chance she could panic and have an attack. Not that her attacks happened like that-- hers were more sudden, coming on when she least expected them and for no specific reason...unless she had a nightmare. --but there was still a chance and Pixie wasn't willing to risk it. She'd rather play it safe and take baby steps, even if said baby steps were bothering her. Pixie missed being able to do things the way she was use to.

Wheeler sighed and stated, "Pix, I'm coming in. I'm sorry."

Before he could enter the small room, the door opened and he found himself staring at a very….disheveled looking Pixie. Her hair was still wet, making it appear darker than it normally was, and pulled back in what appeared to be some kind of knot at the back of her head. It wasn't her hair, though, that caught Wheeler's attention. No, it was the fact Pixie was, basically, holding her pants up.

"Having some problems with your pants?" Wheeler asked, almost on the verge of laughing, himself.

"I tried putting my belt on but it hurts too much to close it as far as I need to," Pixie, sheepishly, answered, showing Wheeler the belt she normally wore. "And I can't just walk around without pants on. Zion or not, that's crazy."

Wheeler laughed, nodding his head in agreement. It was warm in Zion-- living near the earth's core made it so --and many wore little clothing as a result of that. No one walked around in their birthday suits, as far as Wheeler knew, but he'd seen people come close. Especially at the Gathering he'd been dragged to what felt like a lifetime ago. At that event, people didn't seem to care how dressed-- or undressed --they were.

Looking at Pixie, Wheeler wanted to know, "Can't we just, maybe, tie them up or something?"

"I thought about that," Pixie admitted. "But they still slip off. Guess that means I can't go."

Wheeler gave Pixie a look-- one of those "you know you're not going to disobey orders" sort of looks --and broached, "Is there, maybe, something else you can wear or something?"

Not that Wheeler was the epitome of male fashion in Zion, if such a thing existed. He was still wearing his shipboard clothing, black pants and a battered blue sweatshirt. He figured the shirt was in relatively good shape since it didn't have any holes in it. It had been patched up the last time he was in Zion. Since he was going to sitting with some of the most famous members of the resistance, Wheeler figured that looking totally messy might have been a bad thing.

At least, his Matrix mother would say it was. Though the memories were slightly faded with time and experience, Wheeler remembered his mother in the Matrix-- a woman named Faye --always wanting him to look neat and pressed. She made it known that everyone had to look "presentable" for all occasions.

For something like this, for meeting this sort of event-- Wheeler didn't want to call it a celebration since they weren't really celebrating anything --he figured that his Matrix mother would have a fit if he had holes in his clothing. Though he kept telling himself that the Matrix wasn't real, there were just certain things he couldn't get out of his head. Things like having to look neat sometimes.

Shaking himself free of his reverie, Wheeler turned his attention to the problem at hand. Pixie had to figure out what to do about her pants and she was looking for his advice. He knew she must have been desperate because Pixie rarely asked for help with anything. She usually tried to figure out things on her own.

"I guess I could find something else…maybe," Pixie mumbled, thoughtfully. "I'm not even sure what I own anymore. I might have something but I don't want to show off these bruises either."

Pixie was well aware of the fact she was going to have the bruises Hawk gave her for a very long time. Some of the ones on the borders would go away within weeks; the bigger ones might take months to clear up. She just didn't feel like showing them off and having to answer questions about how she got them. That would just bring up things she'd sooner forget. Maybe not forget but find their way to the place in her head where most of her Matrix memories resided. The place where things the young woman would rather not think about lived.

After some searching, and plenty of laughing as Pixie tried to manage both her loose pants and her stiff back, the young woman dug out what appeared to be a dress of some kind. At least, she thought it was a dress anyway. In her hands it was just a ball of bluish fabric she'd pulled out of the bottom of a bin tucked in a corner of her room.

"You going to be alright getting that on?" Wheeler asked, feeling his ears turning a bright shade of red even as he asked. "I mean, with the shirt or something?"

Pixie shrugged, a painful looking move given her bruises on her back, and, blushing, answered, "I guess I'll see when I try to get it off. If I'm not alright then….I guess we'll have to get Rain or something."

"Maybe it would have been better for you if Rain stayed, Pix," Wheeler pointed out, as Pixie turned to leave once more.

Turning back to face the former pitcher, Pixie shook her head and, sheepishly, pointed out, "I know what's wrong with me, Wheeler. I have for a while now. It doesn't take a medical specialist to know I'm having panic attacks. I know I have to learn to control the attacks but for now I'd rather you stick around than Rain. I mean nothing against Rain, though."

Pixie was fiddling with the ball of fabric in her hands, squeezing it and rubbing bits of it between her fingers as she spoke. The young woman had no love for admitting just how important Wheeler had become to her.

To her, it felt as if she'd stepped beyond those invisible boundaries the two of them had created. They were only supposed to be "better than best friends" and that was it. To actually admit anything else made the skin crawling feeling she was starting to almost get use to getting return.

"Why, Pix?" Wheeler wanted to know, pressing her but not because he felt the need to be cruel and made her admit something she wasn't really comfortable admitting.

It was more like Wheeler was generally curious as to why she had him stay with her instead of Rain. Logically speaking, and Wheeler was almost sure Pixie was ruled by logic alone when she wasn't having panic attacks, having Rain stay with her would have been smarter. Rain would have been a bigger help in the situation they found themselves in instead of him. After all, if Pixie couldn't manage to get herself out of her sweater, Rain was…better equipped….to help her.

Wheeler knew he wouldn't be comfortable helping Pixie dress, even if she needed the help. It would just make him uncomfortable which, he figured, might make Pixie uncomfortable as well.

Sighing, Pixie broached, "You know you've become my 'safe' person, right?"

"Is that what you're calling me?" Wheeler wanted to know. "I just thought I was helping you through your attacks. I didn't know I had a title or anything like that."

His answer brought a small smile to Pixie's face. At least Wheeler knew that he was helping her with her panic attacks. She knew panic attacks could be a very self-centered sort of disorder, if one wanted to call them that. They were all about what the person having them was feeling and that was it. Pixie, at least, appreciated the fact Wheeler wasn't put off by the fact she was having panic attacks and, even, wanted to help her through them.

"That's why I'd rather have you here than Rain," she pointed out. "I'm afraid I'm going to have a panic attack-- even though I know there's nothing here to be afraid of --and you're just about the only person in this entire city that I know isn't going to give me a hard time about it. You're the only one who's not going to think I'm crazy."

Before Wheeler could open his mouth and say anything to Pixie, the dark haired young woman darted-- as best she could anyway --back into her bathroom to change again. Pixie's words had left him confused in a way but sure of himself in another. He couldn't understand how anyone would think she was crazy but he was glad he could help her. Someone had to be there for her after what Hawk had done to her….again.

If that meant he and the others-- their shared friends --had to re-teach Pixie about trust then so be it. Wheeler was willing to do that and he knew the others would agree. It was strange but they were their own little team. Like his old baseball team back in Arcadia, when one player was down, they'd pick him up.

In this case, it was Pixie who needed a lift. Once she got herself dressed of course…


	37. The Parting Glass

AN: Alright, after much promising, this is the final chapter in this part of Pixie's story. Is there a sequel? Perhaps…but I don't want to give too much away. I hope everyone enjoyed the story and that Pixie wasn't too obtrusive in the context of the movie. I tried to make her as invisible as possible since she's my own character and, besides, Pixie likes being in the background anyway. To everyone who's stuck with this story as it took its long and winding road, thank you so very much. I really do appreciate you taking the time out to read my silly little story. To anyone who's left me a review or put me on alert or made me a favorite, you're all the best! I hope all of you stick around for the (possible) sequel and any other misadventures Pixie and her friends have!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the characters I made up and their Real World alter egos. I don't own _The_ _Matrix_, _The Animatrix_, or any of that cool stuff. I'm broke and I just finished graduate school for my Master's Degree. All I own are my Pointe shoes.

"And all the harm I've ever done,  
alas it was to none but me.  
And all I've done for want of wit  
to mem'ry now I can't recall;  
So fill to me the parting glass,  
Good night and joy be to you all.

So fill to me the parting glass  
And drink a health whate'er befalls  
And gently rise and softly call  
Good night and joy be to you all…" (from "The Parting Glass" as sung by The High Kings)

"Where in the world did you find that, Pix?" Aisling ask as she and Wheeler, running a bit later than Pixie would have liked, appeared in front of The Parting Glass.

Pixie shrugged, self consciously picking at the fabric that covered her body. She and Wheeler, during their combined hunt and seek mission for something Pixie could wear without upsetting her black and blues, had unearthed something like a dress. It was a conventional dress-- dark blue with thick straps that fit well enough that it didn't look like she was wearing a potato sack but wasn't tight enough to upset her bruises --over which Pixie had pulled on what looked to be sweater sleeves in a lighter shade of blue. The fabric covered what the straps of the dress left bare. Namely the purple bruises on her shoulders.

With her hair completely down-- given the choice, Pixie would wear her hair down rather than put it up, especially if she was home --the young woman looked as normal as the next member of Zion's population. Well, maybe if she wasn't wearing the light sweater on her shoulders. It was never really cold enough in Zion to merit that kind of clothing.

"Bottom of a bin in my room. Wheeler helped me find it," Pixie admitted. "I wouldn't be wearing it…"

"But Wheeler wanted to see you in a dress?" Aisling cut in, a smile on her face.

Pixie sighed, knowing that no matter what she said; Aisling was going to believe what she wanted anyway. Still, it didn't hurt to try and get the truth out there. After all, the truth was important to her on many levels. Pixie didn't even want to think of where she might have wound up if not for wanting to find the truth. Probably not standing in front of a rather questionable establishment at nineteen years of age with some of the best friend she'd ever had.

"More like my belt wasn't making the bruises happy," Pixie corrected, though she knew Aisling wasn't going to buy a word of what she was saying. "Wound up having to concede defeat and wear something that wasn't going to hurt me…even if it is a dress."

It wasn't that Pixie didn't like dressing up but she'd gotten use to dressing more for comfort-- thanks, in part, to her illness in the Matrix --and for her job than anything else. It just wasn't practical or comfortable to work in a dress so she hardly ever wore one. Besides, Pixie liked her pants better. It was just that she couldn't wear them without her belt.

"Aren't you taking anything?" Adoh asked, still being uncharacteristically serious about this whole thing. "I mean, they would have to give her something for them. Right, Aisling?"

"They should yeah. I mean at least ibuprofen to cut down on the pain," Aisling answered. "What? Someone on one of those ships forget to write you a 'scrit for pain killers?"

"Actually," Pixie pointed out, taking a step towards Wheeler. "I have plenty but I'm only taking the lightest possible dose. I can't handle anything stronger. I've never been great with medication. It knocks me off my feet so I'm taking the bare minimum."

Aisling looked at Pixie as if she was crazy but shrugged her shoulders. Though she and Pixie were good friends-- almost sisters --she didn't know Pixie's whole story. Out of their group of friends, it was only Wheeler who knew most of her whole story. He knew enough to know that Pixie disliked being on any medication almost as much as she disliked being injured. It reminded her too much of her past…a past she knew she had to face but she still tried to forget most days.

In her head, she figured that dwelling on a not so happy time, when her situation had looked bleak and she'd been, frankly, alone wasn't going to help her any. Especially now when she knew she had to keep her spirits up. It was the only way to beat back the panic attacks. She couldn't dwell on dark, unhappy things because that would give the attacks power of her.

Besides, in the middle of all the sadness or horror, there was one bright spot. She was alive and among friends who weren't, hopefully, going to do what Hawk had done to her more than once. She'd survived everything that had happened to her and, for that; Pixie knew she had to be thankful. That was her strongest weapon against her panic attacks. The things that were causing the attacks-- the things in her head --could be beaten back, even for a short time, with those thoughts.

If she could manage it anyway. It wasn't easy but she knew she had to try. For now, anyway, Pixie knew she could count on Aisling and the others to help her out. They'd make sure her spirits were high, despite the fact they all knew what awaited them inside The Parting Glass.

"You two coming?" Ngaio asked, as she and the others started to trickle into the drinking establishment. "This is for your crew, Pix, not any of ours."

Pixie nodded her head and found that she wasn't standing alone. Standing next to her, close enough to be holding her hand but not doing so, was Wheeler. She wondered if he wanted to hold her hand of if that was what they were supposed to be doing but she shrugged the thought away. Thinking about things like that was enough to get her heart racing faster than it already was.

"We're coming," Wheeler answered for both of them, "Give us a second."

The young woman knew she should have said something about the "we" and the "us" comment but Pixie chose not to. It actually felt good to have someone like Wheeler on her side right now as she wasn't feeling all that comfortable with the situation she was walking into. Even surrounded by her friends and with Wheeler next to her, she could feel her skin starting to crawl with that uncomfortable, pre-panic feeling.

Closing her eyes for a moment, Pixie took a deep breath and let it out. Once she opened her eyes she focused them on the building-- if one could call it a building --instead of the people around her. The Parting Glass, one of the bars frequented by members of the fleet, was built into a naturally occurring cave. Part of the cave's entrance was blocked off by rocks that had fallen during a rockslide before Pixie had come to live in Zion. Either way, the rocks created a doorway and the owner, a Pod Born Irish fellow complete with the red hair and brogue who was generally called Rory but who'd given name was Ruaidhrí, had the building's name hanging from a metallic sign above the entrance and had cut a window into the rocks that creating the building's front wall.

"The Parting Glass," to Pixie anyway seemed such a bleak name for a drinking establishment, but now it seemed appropriate for what they were doing. At least in Pixie's mind anyway.

"Ready?" Wheeler asked, taking Pixie's hand. "Skin not crawling anymore?"

Pixie gave Wheeler a sidelong look and wanted to know, "I guess I'm ready but how'd you know I wasn't feeling right?"

Squeezing her hand, he answered, "You just started to look really uncomfortable there. It was kind of like when you were having those really bad attacks back on the _Shatterpoint_. You just start to look like you want to get out of here or that your skin doesn't fit you right or something. I'm not sure how to explain it really."

Shrugging, he added, "You ready, though? I mean we can't stand out here all day."

"I guess so," Pixie sighed. "I really don't want Aisling and the rest of them running into the others before I get in there. That wouldn't be good at all."

Wheeler laughed, nodding his head. He, like Pixie, knew that Aisling and her twin brother were raised as a staunch believer in the One. Meeting Neo and accosting him about what he'd done or heard he'd done anyway was probably high on the list of their things to do.

What had actually happened was strictly rumor amongst the population in Zion for the moment. It was only among the crews of the _Shatterpoint_ and _Logos_, and the Zion Council now, Wheeler guessed, that the whole truth was known. Them and those who had witnessed what had happened, Trinity, Pixie, Morpheus, and Tank, knew the truth of the situation. Everyone else had heard rumors and some of them were quite…wild…to say the least.

The room was loud, half full of members of the resistance and those they'd brought with them, and every new patron was eyed suspiciously as they entered the space. It was almost as if individuals who were not members of the fleet were unwelcomed into The Parting Glass. Pixie pulled back a bit, straining against Wheeler's hands, as the noise invaded her ears and the crowd loomed before her. The skin crawling sensation she'd experienced outside only grew tenfold inside The Parting Glass.

There were just too many people for her to be comfortable. Even though she was standing just to the side of the doorway, Pixie felt as if she couldn't escape. The crowd was pressing in on her and she couldn't make her away out of it even though she was only at its fringes.

"You're going to be fine, Pix," Wheeler mumbled, speaking into her ear in a low whisper. "I've got you. You're not going to get swallowed by this crowd. It's just like before."

Wheeler was well aware of the fact that treating Pixie kindly ran counter to how one was supposed to treat someone having panic attacks. They were supposed to be treated with a firm hand, shown tough love instead of kindness. Wheeler had never been one for treating someone with "tough love" since it reminded him too much of how his father in the Matrix use to treat him. Besides, he figured that if he was kind to Pixie-- if he could make her feel more comfortable in a way --it would help her more than just being cruel towards her and telling her to "get over it" and that "it was all in her head."

"And, of course, they had to sit all the way in the back," Pixie mumbled as they started navigating a path through the crowd. "They couldn't pick someplace closer to the door to sit."

Aisling, leading the charge and knocking shoulders, elbows, and hips with anyone who dared to get in her way, laughed and called, "Probably wanted some privacy."

"If they wanted privacy they could have done this someplace else," Wheeler mumbled, speaking the words Pixie was thinking. "Someone's home maybe."

Pixie shrugged unsure of what to say. She'd never actually been in Trinity or Morpheus's homes. Chian's, yes, but that was only once and it was something Pixie wasn't exactly keen on repeating. Not after what happened the first time she'd paid Chian a visit.

With Wheeler leading her through the crowd-- Pixie had never been tall in the Matrix and she hadn't done much growing after she was freed. --the group found themselves a table next to the one occupied by the members of Pixie's crew and a few select…others. Some faces Pixie recognized, most she was surprised to see sitting there. In her head, she figured it was just going to be the crew of the _Nebuchadnezzar_ and a few people from the _Logos_. Her friends too but they were coming just to make her comfortable or, at least, that's what she assumed.

"How come we can't sit over there?" Aisling asked as she took the seat next to Ngaio. "There's plenty of room over there and you said they invited all of us to come with you."

"For once Aisling does have a point," Adoh stated, ducking his head as his sister went to swat the back of it. "How come we're sitting next to them? There's plenty of room over there, Pix."

"I don't know," Pixie, quietly, answered. "I don't want to intrude if they'd rather be alone and me coming along was just a token gesture because I'm from the same ship."

Aside from Wheeler, who had a pretty clear idea of what was going on with Pixie, the others gave her confused glances. Pixie had always, back from their shared days at the Academy, been the "shy" one of the group. She was always the one who kept back in large groups. The only time she ever seemed comfortable, and that was subjective, was when she was with her friends. They'd all assumed she'd made something like friends with the crew she worked with. Her crawling back into her preverbal shell caught them all off guard.

"What's gotten into you, Pix?" Ngaio asked, curiously. "I thought you were coming here to do what we did when my Operator died. That wasn't a token gesture when I was invited to come along."

"It's nothing," Pixie, evasively, answered. "Just uncomfortable I guess. This isn't exactly a happy occasion, you know."

"You're telling me," Ngaio mumbled. "These are terrible. Almost as bad as the services at the Gardens. You have to go to those too, Pix?"

Pixie shrugged and answered, "I guess so. I think I'm obligated to go. Maybe you guys want to come along with me. I really don't think I'm going to be able to go alone."

The question was more for Wheeler than the others but Pixie didn't want to be rude and ask just Wheeler. Besides, she figured things might be better if all her friends-- what passed for her family in Zion --could come along and back her up. It was like Wheeler had said she needed to increase the number of people she trusted. She couldn't have one "safe" person, no matter how much Pixie really wanted to have only one. The circle had to be widened to include others.

"You know we have your back," Aisling answered for the group. "Just tell us when and where and we'll be there with bells on."

"That's because you think you're going to meet the One or someone famous when we got. You always have ulterior motives for things, sis," Adoh pointed out, earning himself a smack upside the back of his head.

Pixie laughed, knowing Adoh was right but keeping that to herself. She and Aisling had never fought-- not physically and, certainly not, verbally --and Pixie wanted to keep things that way. Besides, Aisling, for all her bluster, was a good friend to her. She'd stuck up for her more times than Pixie could recall back in their Academy days. She and Ngaio made a formidable pair whenever anyone decided to pick on Pixie in gym class.

"We're going to try to come to the trial too," Ngaio added. "I talked to my mom and she said that if things swing a certain way, we might be able to come in with you. Depends on whether or not the council wants to keep this mess private. If it's a closed trial, then we can't come in with you."

"It's going to be a closed trial," Trinity pointed out coming over to the table where Pixie and her friends sat. "And how did you find out about Hawk's trial?"

"Better question," Chian cut in. "Why aren't you kids sitting over here? We don't bite…much!"

Before Pixie could answer Chian or Ngaio answer Trinity, the group of teens found themselves being "ushered" to the larger table. Pixie heard Adoh mumble something about going to sit at the "grown up" table.

"Wonder what he knows about that," Wheeler grumbled, making Pixie smile a bit. "Bet he never had to sit at the kid's table in his entire life."

"And you have?" Pixie mumbled to Wheeler as she took a seat next to him.

"More times than I can count, Pix," Wheeler answered. "I'll tell you later. Good stories that'll keep the nightmares away if you need them."

"My mother…adopted mother actually," Ngaio answered, correcting herself as she spoke. "Works in Zion security. She had all the information on Hawk's…um…situation…before you guys got here. I just happened to have a peek at them when she wasn't paying attention."

"Snooping around?" Chian laughed. "Well, I guess that's what got you here in the first place, right?"

"Yeah," Ngaio agreed. "I think it's what got most of us here."

Looking around the table, at the mix of faces, Pixie almost hit herself on the head. Sure she had to be, physically, dragged to the other table but she was forgetting something very important. Maybe not really important, given their surroundings, but necessary. Not that anyone would remember anything, if she remembered how these things went but she didn't want to seem rude and not do it.

"Um….these are my friends, by the way," Pixie said, straining her voice to be heard around the now very crowded table. "That's Aisling and her twin Adoh and Adoh's….um….close friend…Ngaio. This one's Wheeler."

Pixie knew that introducing Wheeler was probably not necessary. Most people at the table recognized the scruffy looking former pitcher from the long repair process. He was almost always with Pixie during that time and, in the rare occasion he wasn't with Pixie; he was off working with everyone else and being friendly about it. The only person, it seemed, that Wheeler didn't get along with was Hawk and no one blamed him for that fact.

The others at the table-- most faces Pixie recognized but couldn't attach names to because she'd only met them in passing --Pixie learned were friends of Sparks and had worked in freeing Neo in a backwards sort of way. She'd heard their names but had never really met them. Whenever they were in contact it always seemed she was occupied with something else.

"What are you two doing here?" Neo asked, sounding slightly stunned, as Sparks's two friends greeted him by his Matrix name.

"Choi and Dujour were actually working for us, Neo," Trinity explained. "They were keeping you safe in the Matrix while we were watching you from the Real World."

"We're in the…under cover…department," Choi pointed out. "Someone's got to keep all you potential Ones from doing something stupid and getting your rear ends fried by the Agents. Besides, with your dead end job, our cash was the only thing keeping your computer from being taken away."

As he spoke a buxom women, dressed in clothing that made Pixie blush a bright pink-- She'd never be caught dead dressed like that. The more skin she had covered, the better she felt. It was bad enough she was in a dress that showed her shins as it was. --came over to their table. She eyed the large group, her steely gaze lingering on the nearly bald Neo and the group of, obviously, younger individuals sitting at the far end of the table for a few moments longer than the rest of the crowd.

"Our first day back in Zion, ladies and gentlemen?" the buxom woman asked, speaking to no one in particular at the table.

"Yes it is, sweetheart," Sparks answered, in a flirting tone. "Care to start our time home on a celebratory note?"

"On the house then, since you're all just newly home. I'll be back with your drinks," the waitress said turning her back but not before winking at Sparks.

Before anyone could say anything, Chian smacked Sparks in the arm hard enough that Aisling-- who was rather infamous among Pixie's circle of friends for clocking her twin upside his head whenever she thought he said or did something stupid. --winced. Though she was still feeling tense and uncomfortable, Pixie couldn't help but smile as Chian began reprimanding Sparks for his "crimes."

Before long the buxom waitress returned, leaving a tray of frothing beverages in the center of the table. Beverages that were passed down and around until everyone sitting at the table had one. That included Pixie who accepted her glass with a small frown. The two times she'd actually drank alcohol in excess, she'd wound up exceedingly ill. All she remembered was having what she supposed was a massive hangover and being so sick that she had to be put on I.V. fluids to compensate for electrolyte loss. It was feat she cared not to repeat any time soon.

"Watch Pix," Aisling hissed, speaking to the rest of the table. "I bet she doesn't take more than one sip of that."

"I bet she barely makes it to one sip," Sparks laughed. "She'll probably fake it."

"No," Ngaio put in. "When we did this form my Operator, she had one sip at least. Unless she did a really good job of faking it."

Holding her glass aloft, Trinity stared everyone gathered around the table into silence. Pixie, sitting on the end of the table-- Wheeler made sure she got a corner so she wouldn't feel as trapped as she might sandwiched between two people someplace in the middle of the table --stared down at the battered table top. She was counting the marks on the table in an effort to focus her mind on something else. It was her way of trying to calm her mind down and stop the panic before it took her over.

"We lost several good warriors and friends thanks to Hawk and Cypher losing their faith in not only Morpheus but our mission. We might have found the One but it cost us and we can't forget that," Trinity stated.

Looking up and down the table, at everyone who'd come, she added, "In their memory I say, we all have to make a choice…live free or die."

Everyone around the table, including Pixie, chorused, "Live free" and knocked back their drink.

Pixie may have joined in on the answering-- she knew that she'd rather live free than die any day of the week --but she only took a polite sip of the drink she held. Coughing on the beverage, she pushed it towards the middle of the table. When the next round was ordered, she knew she'd be having a water.

"Told ya," Aisling laughed. "One sip and that's it."

"She did better than Neo," Chian pointed out, gesturing towards the supposed One who was gagging on the sip he'd taken.

Pixie shrugged and managed another small smile. She was no Oracle; she couldn't tell what the future held for any of them. She wasn't even sure Neo was "the One" to save Zion. All she knew was that, as she told Wheeler, the future was going to be an interesting one.

It was going to be a future, like she promised her friends, they'd all be together to see.


End file.
